


Because This Moment Simply Is

by ILoveLucey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Best Friends, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean, Canonical Character Death, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Neighbors, Friends to Lovers, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Happy Ending, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Love Letters, M/M, Minor Balthazar/Castiel, Misunderstandings, Pierced Castiel, Pining, Tattooed Castiel, Teacher Castiel, Top Castiel, Writer Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-25 10:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13832526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveLucey/pseuds/ILoveLucey
Summary: Dean and Cas have been next-door neighbors and best friends since they were both four years old. They've been through everything together. Cas was there for Dean when his mother died, and his father started going off the rails. Dean was there for Cas while he came to terms with his sexuality and came out to his religious family.Now they’re both eighteen and Cas is secretly, hopelessly in love with Dean. After years of ignoring his burgeoning feelings, Cas finds the courage to come clean just before he moves across the country to attend college in California. Determined, Cas pours his feelings out into a letter and leaves it for Dean to find.It isn't until eight years later that Dean finally receives the letter, and that single sheet of yellowed notebook paper turns his entire world upside down.





	1. The Spark

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I'd like to thank my friend [Kelsey](http://kelseysaurus.tumblr.com/) for being super supportive during the entire process of writing this fic! She's been my cheerleader, my beta queen, and helped so much with brainstorming plot! I couldn't have done it without you! Thanks, friend. 
> 
> Second, I have to thank my wonderful artist, [Dreym](http://dreymart.tumblr.com/)! She made such beautiful art! I'm really lucky she chose my fic. Thanks, Dreym! [Go check out the art masterpost here. ](http://dreymart.tumblr.com/post/172118393134/a-new-year-means-a-new-challenge-and-here-we-kick)
> 
> Lastly, thanks to the mods for hosting this challenge and to everyone in the Pinefest Discord server, who were all so helpful and sweet. It's a really awesome group to be a part of!

Despite the fact that it’s nearing 9 o’clock at night, the air is still hot and muggy. It had been one of the hottest days of the summer and had only just begun to cool off, the sun having set barely an hour ago. The sky is darker tonight for lack of a moon but that only makes it easier to see the sprinkling of stars hanging in a sheet above their heads.

It’s the tail end of August and Dean and Cas have a mere week until their first day at Lawrence High. They’ve been thoroughly enjoying their last summer before high school and have barely thought about what’s to come. Now that the time is near, Dean seems to be approaching it the same way he approaches everything, with effortless confidence and nonchalance. Cas is feeling a bit more anxiety about this new chapter, but he hasn’t revealed that fact to Dean yet.

Tonight Cas convinced Dean to camp out in the Novaks’ backyard. That afternoon, they rummaged around in the garage for the olive green two-man tent, queen-size inflatable mattress, and Coleman lantern - all barely used. The Novaks had taken a summer trip to the Smokey Mountains a couple years ago. Chuck Novak had been dead set on camping and had brought a slew of equipment with them. The first night, Mrs. Novak had heard what she was convinced was a wild animal outside their tent and the family spent the rest of the week in a luxurious cabin.

It took a little longer than expected to erect the tent, but in the end they had a nice set up. The mattress took up most of the space inside and Cas had brought out the spare guest sheets to spread over the top along with a couple extra pillows. They deliberately forwent sleeping bags on account of how warm the weather was; they planned on just stretching out on top of the mattress. The lantern was currently turned on low, sitting in the corner of the tent next to their stockpile of snacks. Cas had filled the small ice chest with all the ice in the freezer and they had buried enough sodas in it to last them a week.

Dean and Cas stretch  out on a blanket they had found in the linen closet, looking up at the stars. They’re both more than pleasantly full, having devoured an entire pizza and a bag of chips for dinner. Dean is balancing a weeping can of Coke on his chest, his hands stretched out behind his head. Cas is just enjoying the view.

“You can’t tell me that doesn’t look like a penis,” Dean insists, pointing up at the sky.

Cas has been trying to teach Dean the visible constellations, but all Dean can do is try to make dirty pictures by connecting the stars.

Cas rolls his eyes and punches Dean in the shoulder harmlessly. The can of Coke wobbles precariously before settling.

Smirking, Dean looks over at Cas. When Cas gazes back, he’s struck by how perfect Dean looks in the low light spilling out from the mouth of the tent. His light brown hair is ruffled from laying down and his skin is end-of-the-summer tan, highlighting his freckles. Cas thinks he could find the constellations in Dean’s freckles if he just looked long enough. Dean smells -not bad- but distinctly _Dean_. The smell is something like boy and sunshine. They had spent all day riding their bikes in the hot sun and hadn’t showered yet.

“I think you have a complex, trying to find penises everywhere,” Cas comments blandly.

Dean huffs and looks back up at the sky with a smile pulling at his lips. “Shouldn’t that be _your_ complex?” he asks, goodnaturedly. He finishes his soda and sets the empty can over on the grass so he can turn on his side, facing Cas.

Something warm and fuzzy is sitting in Cas’s chest.

It was the end of last school-year when the entire eighth grade, including Dean, had been stressing over finding a date to the graduation dance. Cas had been stressing for another reason. He had recently been able to admit to himself that he was interested in boys, not girls. While Dean contemplated which of the many girls at their school to invite, Cas kept quiet. Dean had even made some suggestions of which girls he thought Cas should ask, and Cas kept quiet then, too. He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with Dean or how he would react.

One Friday night they were sitting in Cas’s room when Dean brought up the dance again. Cas finally confessed to Dean that night that he wasn’t interested in any of the girls Dean had mentioned. He wasn’t interested in any of the girls in the school. When he saw himself kissing someone, or dancing to a slow song, it was with another boy. It had been terrifying to admit out loud what he had been struggling with so much in his own head. It was something he knew his parents and all the members of their congregation would be disgusted to learn.

He hadn’t realized it at the time, but he had started crying while he shakily told Dean he wouldn’t be allowed to bring the kind of person he wanted to the dance. For all that worrying, Dean just hugged him and told him it was okay to like boys. That night, Cas had been so worried that their friendship would change. That the boy who had been his best friend, like a brother to him, for the past nine years would treat him differently after that. Maybe Dean would be reluctant to change in front of him or share a bed anymore. Thankfully, none of that came to pass and looking back, it was foolish to think it would.

It still always warmed his heart whenever Dean treated him the same as always, teased him the same, without a care of which gender he was interested in.

Dean had ended up not asking any of the girls to that graduation dance. Instead, he and Cas stayed home that night and rented all three _Back to the Future_ movies. They ate their weight in pizza and stayed up late in the Novaks’ living room debating how many years from then it would be for them to actually get to ride a real hoverboard.

Cas had never had a better friend, and he was sure he never would. Dean is the best thing that ever happened to him. Cas considers himself somewhat shy and introverted. Being friends with the outgoing (and sometimes outrageous) Dean his whole life had helped bring Cas out of his shell. Dean helped him make other friends. Cas’s pretty sure he would be a lonely recluse by now, if not for always having Dean by his side.

The one secret that he has ever kept from Dean is something practically insignificant anyway: Cas has recently developed a crush on Dean. Cas knows it’s probably just hormones talking and the fact that Dean is the only boy he’s physically close with. It has to be. Once he goes to high school, he’ll meet a lot of new boys to crush on. A more appropriate object of his affection. Maybe he’ll even find someone who’s like him: someone who actually likes other boys.

Someday Cas’ll confess that he once had a crush on Dean and they’ll both laugh about it. For right now, he’s decided to just put aside those feelings and focus on being the best friend he can be, like Dean has been to Cas for all these years.

Dean rolls over onto his back to gaze up at the stars again. The grass crinkles beneath their woolen blanket. Dean’s hand brushes Cas’s arm and it sends an electric shock through him. The little hairs on the back of his arms are all standing to attention. Cas takes a deep breath and searches the sky.

Lying here beside Dean, both staring up overhead, makes Cas think about the little plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that are still stuck on his bedroom ceiling. They’ve long since lost their glow but they used to feel like magic. He can still remember the first night after he and his father had spent hours getting them in just the right positions. Dean had slept over to take part in Cas's first night sleeping underneath them. They stretched out on his bed, side by side, and gazed up together at the ceiling full of stars. When they were six, that seemed so huge.

Now looking up at the vast sky overhead feels just the same. It makes Cas feel small again.

“Dean, I don’t want to start high school,” Cas confesses into the quiet night.

Cas can hear Dean turn his head to look at him but he can’t look back.

“Why not?”

Cas takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. I registered for all those honors classes. What if it’s too much? And we probably won’t have any classes together and I’ll have to do group projects with strangers. And now we need to start worrying about our grades or else we’ll never get in to a good college. And they’ll be a lot of school dances that I won’t want to go to. And what if someone finds out I don’t want to kiss girls and I get stuffed in my locker like Screech in _Saved by the Bell_ -”

Dean interrupts Cas’s rambling by grabbing his shoulder and shaking it roughly. “Dude, calm down. Take a breath. Holy crap. I didn’t know you were so freaked out about this.”

Cas follows Dean’s advice and sucks a long breath into his lungs before letting it out slowly. He feels ever so slightly calmer. “I didn’t know I was so freaked out until I started talking about it just now.”

Dean pats Cas’s shoulder reassuringly. “Cas, you have nothing to worry about. One, you’re super smart and are going to kick those honors classes in the ass,” Dean starts out, ticking numbers off his fingers as he goes. “Two, we might not have classes together, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to be the class leper. I almost guarantee you’ll know someone from middle school in every class. Even if it’s Harry Spangler,” Dean pauses to make a face. “Three, you’re going to get good grades like you always do, but you really don’t need to be stressing out about college yet. And four, no one is going to be stuffing you in a locker. Trust me. You definitely won’t fit.”

Cas chuckles and punches Dean again, playfully. “Thanks a lot. That’s very reassuring.”

Dean smirks.

“Dude, no one is going to make fun of you or mess around with you. Not while I’m here,” he says definitively.

All of the weight Cas felt settled on his chest just a moment ago is suddenly gone. Somehow, Dean has a way of making Cas feel better about anything.

Cas smiles up at the stars. “Thanks, Dean,” he whispers, grabbing his best friend’s hand and squeezing, enjoying the thrill he feels whenever they touch.

Dean squeezes back. “Hey, we’re in this together, okay?”

Cas feels the worry melt from his shoulders as his smile spreads further across his face. He’s looking up at an infinite sky, staring down an unknown future, but he knows he’ll be okay. He has his best friend at his side. Like always.


	2. The Confession

Dean is lying in Cas’s bed, his head of perfectly tousled light brown hair hanging over the edge and his black and white Converse-clad feet propped up on the wall. He has a battered copy of Slaughterhouse Five held aloft in front of his face, rereading it for the umpteenth time.

Cas is sitting at his desk, going over his moving checklist one more time, but he’s paused to stare at Dean. In just a few short days, he’ll be moving across the country to California and Dean will be staying here in Kansas.

“What are we going to do tomorrow night?” he asks Dean, trying not to think too hard about how it will be their last weekly Friday night hangout before they are separated by 1,799 miles - yes, he looked up the exact number of miles between Lawrence and Berkeley.

Dean sets the book down on his chest and looks up at Cas. “I dunno. What do you wanna do? Go get pizza at Gino’s and go to the arcade?”

It was the same thing they did together almost every Friday night since they were in middle school. Cas was thinking they might do something special for their final hangout but one last night at Gameopolis sounded kinda perfect.

Cas smiles and turns back to his list. “Okay, that sounds nice.”

He's still trying very hard not to think about how it will be their last time partaking in this ritual. At least for a long while.

Cas met Dean when they were both just four years old. Cas’s family had moved into the house next door to the Winchesters’ from Pontiac, Illinois when Mr. Novak had started a new job. Mary Winchester came over the day they moved in and rang the front door with tiny Sammy asleep in her arms and Dean beside her, clutching a homemade apple pie Mary had baked fresh that morning.

Dean had been ecstatic that a little boy his age had moved in, apparently, since there were no other children his age in the neighborhood at the time. Mary had invited Cas over to play the next day while Chuck and Naomi unpacked. From that day on, Cas and Dean had been pretty much inseparable. They went to school together, did their homework together, and spent nearly all of their free time together at one another’s house.

Fourteen years later and now they would be living away from each other for the first time since that first day Dean had shared his Legos with him. Cas teetered in a place between anxious and devastated.

He still had trouble making friends more often than not. It just felt awkward talking to new people, while Dean was the one who could talk to anyone. He made new friends at the drop of a hat and those friends became Cas’s friends too by default. Now, Cas would be on his own and have to rely on his own poor social skills to make friends instead of relying on Dean all the time.

That wasn't the worst part, though. The worst part was that Cas was hopelessly in love with Dean.

Four years ago, he was so certain his crush would have dissipated by now. Boy, was he wrong. The feelings had only gotten stronger as time went on. Just last year, he realized he was absolutely, irrevocably in love with his best friend. It hit him like a freight train.

With that realization came stress and fear. The small possibility that it could actually be requited was what made it even worse. During their last year of high school, Dean confessed to Cas that he was bisexual, or that he "swung both ways", as he called it. Dean was confused when he was younger because he did like girls, unlike Cas, who was completely uninterested in anyone of the female persuasion, but he had come to the conclusion that he was very interested in boys too. Which boys in particular, Cas didn’t know. He staunchly refused to ask.

Dean had come out to his other friends as well, but he was still resolutely hiding the revelation about his sexuality from his father. John Winchester was set in his ways, an old military man, and lent himself to the old-fashioned idea that boys dated girls and that was the end of the story.

Cas had been agonizing all summer over whether or not he should admit his feelings to Dean. Even though there was now at least a _chance_ of Dean returning his affections, he still was doubtful that Dean could feel the same way about him. There had been times, throughout the year, when Cas had thought _maybe._ Sometimes Dean would stare too long at Cas, almost appreciatively. There were moments when they would make eye contact and Cas would feel - something. Like they shared something deep and meaningful that was beyond their usual friendly or pseudo-familial affection. Dean would even tell Cas how attractive he was, whenever he was feeling self-deprecating. There was a chance, however slim he thought it might be, that Dean actually returned his feelings, and he thought this could be the perfect opportunity to lay it all on the line since he was moving so far away.

On one hand, if Dean rejected him, he wouldn’t have to see him every day. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure he wanted their goodbyes to be tainted with bad feelings. Dean had been by his side through everything, throughout his whole life, and the idea of making things awkward between them was unthinkable.

Cas spent much of their senior year convincing himself that confessing to Dean would be ruinous for their friendship and Dean's friendship mattered more to him than anything else. Now that he was on the cusp of moving thousands of miles away, he was rethinking that decision.  

After much internal debate and many sleepless nights, Cas decided he _would_ tell Dean. He and Dean had no secrets between them, except this one. Cas wanted to confess and get it off his chest no matter how it turned out. He had decided that if he didn’t say anything, he would regret it the rest of his life, always wondering what could have been. If he confessed now, he would finally know for sure one way or another.

If by some miracle Dean did feel the same way, he and Cas could work it out. Cas would transfer to KU if he had to, no matter how much he wanted to get away from his parents. They would do whatever they had to to make it work. Whatever it was would be worth it. Being with Dean as his romantic partner was his dream - his fantasy - it was what he longed for whenever he imagine his future beyond college. He thought of himself and Dean, living in a small apartment together, starting their careers, as boyfriends. He even went so far as to imagine their wedding. It would be outside, at night, under the stars.

If Dean didn’t feel the same way, it would be okay, Cas told himself over and over again. He would finally know for sure and would be able to move on. Four years on the other side of the country was a nightmare if Dean said yes but a dream if he said no. He wouldn’t have to see Dean every day and could take the time apart to finally move on. Dean would be kind about it, no doubt, and they could decide together how to move forward without it being awkward between them. They were so close, nothing could tear them apart.

Cas decided that he would spill his heart to Dean in the form of a letter, so he wouldn’t have to see Dean’s face when he found out his best friend has been hopelessly, head over heels in love with him for years. Cas didn’t think he could stand to see the look on Dean’s face if he didn’t feel the same way and tried to find a way to let him down easy. A look of pity from Dean would surely destroy Cas’s usual ability to keep up appearances of being unaffected.

Cas had the letter already written. He had gone through almost an entire notebook of paper, writing and rewriting over and over again. The finished product was folded neatly in thirds, currently hidden in the dark depths of his sock drawer.

_Dear Dean,_

_You’re probably wondering why I’m writing you a letter while I’m in the house next door. It’s because I need to tell you something that I can’t bring myself to tell you to your face. I know you would assure me that I can tell you anything, and normally I can, but just not this. I’m going to come right out and say it: Dean, I love you._

_I feel like I should clarify that I mean that not just as my best friend or my family, but romantically. I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time. I don’t know when exactly I fell for you, but I do remember the moment when I realized I was in over my head._

_Remember the summer before freshman year? I had convinced you to camp out with me in the backyard. You complained all evening about the tent and the bugs and why couldn’t we just go inside and watch Star Wars again like we usually did on Friday nights. All your whining should have irritated me, but it only endeared you to me further. We laid in the grass and looked up at the stars while we talked about what we thought high school would be like. I showed you all the new constellations I had learned over the summer and you tried to make dirty pictures out of the stars. I remember I looked over at you, lying next to me in the grass, and I realized how much I wanted to kiss you. I thought it was just a crush back then, but now I know better._

_Since we will probably be spending much of the next four years 1,800 miles apart, I feel like this is the best time to come clean. If this doesn’t go the way that I’m hoping, I’ll have four months to move on before I come back to Kansas for Christmas break. There have been a few moments over the years when I was certain that you returned my feelings, and I’m praying I wasn’t wrong. If I’m not, we can make this work. I know it will have to be long distance for a while, but we can get through that. We’ll figure it out together._

_If you don’t feel the same way, I completely understand. I very much do not want this to make things awkward between us. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, you’re my family, and I don’t ever want that to change. Please, Dean, if you don’t feel the same way, just tear up this letter, throw it away, and pretend it never existed. I want you to continue to act the same as you always do, and please do me the courtesy of not bringing up this letter for as long as we live. I couldn’t stand the embarrassment, and I’d rather just ignore the fact that I was ever naive enough to think you could return my feelings._

_No matter what happens, I want you to know that you’re an amazing, strong, thoughtful, kind, and generous person. I love you very much and I always will, even if we can’t be together._

_Love always,_

_Castiel_

Cas was still having moments of doubt where he would get the overwhelming urge to dig the letter out and tear it into tiny pieces before Dean could ever have the chance to lay eyes on it. He was gripped by moments of terror thinking that Dean would be upset about it, or even worse, pity him. However, those moments were matched by the times that Cas would lie in bed, about to drift off to sleep, and he would imagine the life that he and Dean would have together if it worked out. Making dinner together and dancing in the kitchen to Van Morrison, holding hands in the movies, giggling together in their shared bed after good sex. Cas ached for all of it.

 


	3. The Interception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild homophobia.

Cas had barely gotten a wink of sleep the night before. He had been up worrying and tossing and turning all night. At around four a.m., he had finally come to the decision that he would leave Dean the note that day.

As much as he tried to quell it, he couldn’t keep himself from feeling that balloon of hope expanding in his chest. Dean was attracted to men, so there was certainly a chance that he could be interested in Cas. Heck, Charlie had even told him he was “dreamy” and she didn’t bat for their team. He knew he couldn’t hold a candle to Dean’s beauty but he certainly wasn’t repulsive. He kept telling himself that it is very possible that Dean could return his feelings, however unlikely it felt at times.

Cas tried to push that hope down and prepare himself for the likelihood that Dean would not return his adoration. That he would come face to face with Cas after he had read the letter and act like nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t just learned Cas’s deepest, darkest secret. That’s probably what was going to happen, the devil on Cas’s shoulder kept telling him the entire day.

His plan was to run out to the Winchesters’ mailbox after the mailman had visited and slide the letter in alongside the rest of that day’s envelopes and circulars. Dean would receive it when he went through the mail that afternoon, as was part of his daily routine.

So Cas spent the entire afternoon sitting at his bedroom window, looking down over both the Novaks’ and the Winchesters’ green front lawns, waiting for the familiar man in blue to walk down the street.

Cas has been sitting in the same place for over an hour when he finally catches sight of the postman at the end of the street. He watches anxiously as the mailman delivers mail to the houses along the way before he arrives at the mailbox marked “Winchester” and deposits a small stack of mail inside. He then does the same to the mailbox marked “Novak” before making his way on further down the street. As soon as he is out of sight, Cas leaps up from his seat and pounds down the stairs, sprinting out through the front door and straight to the mailbox next door.

 _This is it_.

With shaking fingers, Cas slips the folded piece of notebook paper to rest in between the other mail and closes the mailbox. Mission accomplished, he quickly runs back across the yard, through the front door, and up the stairs before anyone can catch him loitering around the neighbor’s mailbox.

When he returns to his seat by the window, his heart is pounding madly, like he’s just returned from one of his ten-mile runs. He can’t believe he actually did that. Maybe he should run downstairs and take it back? He still has time.

This is probably stupid. Dean is going to be uncomfortable when he reads it. "This was definitely a really stupid idea," he tells himself out loud.

But maybe not. Maybe this will become the best day of Cas’s life. Cas’s mind can’t stop racing and swinging wildly from one extreme to the other. He gets up from his chair several times, just to force himself back down into it.

While he is still arguing with himself over whether or not to retrieve the letter and hide it somewhere where Dean’s eyes will never befall it, he hears the growl of the Impala coming down the street and watches with horror as the hulking black vehicle pulls up into the driveway next door.

Cas jumps up from his spot and stares, stricken, watching Dean and Sam exit the car. His heart is racing. There’s still time, he thinks wildly. He can still get down there fast enough to intercept Dean from getting the mail and thereby the letter he so idiotically thought was a good idea at one point.

He hesitates.

Maybe Dean won’t get the mail yet, Cas hopes frantically, as he witnesses Sam and Dean laughing with each other, like nothing life-shattering is about to happen.

Unfortunately, Dean makes a beeline to the mailbox while Sam runs ahead into the house.

“Oh my god,” Cas whispers to himself as he watches, horrified, exhilarated, while Dean collects all of the mail and starts walking up to the house.

When Dean looks up, Cas is frozen.

Dean must see Cas standing by the window because he smiles his usual brilliant smile and waves. Cas stays locked in place but Dean doesn’t notice his panic, he just keeps walking up the walkway to the front door and then disappears behind it.

Cas’s anxiety has just gone through the roof. It hits him that Dean actually has the letter in his hands. The letter where Cas poured his heart and soul out onto the page for his best friend to see. Dean’s going to read it momentarily, and once he does, Cas won’t be able to take it back. This isn’t something he can just laugh off and say, “just kidding”.

He momentarily contemplates vaulting down the stairs, to Dean’s house, and ripping the mail out of his hand. If he never reads it, then problem solved. It only takes Cas a second for him to realize that that won’t work. Dean would never just let him run off to the safety of his bedroom after a stunt like that. He would interrogate Cas until he got it out of him.

This is it, he thinks. It’s over.

Maybe the smile he just flashed him is the last smile Dean will ever freely give without worrying that he’s leading Cas on or something.

Maybe it’s just the last smile Dean will give him as his best friend, before they become boyfriends and live happily ever after.

Cas isn’t sure how long he stands there, staring blankly at the door that Dean disappeared through, but eventually he turns away from the window and faceplants on top of his navy-blue duvet. The bed creaks under the weight of his pathetic body. There’s a chance that his life as he knows it could be over. If Dean decides to take his “out” and not bring up the letter, there’s still one positive - while he’s been depressed all summer thinking about having to leave Dean, he will now be able to leave Kansas behind with ease.

Nothing, from this point on, will be the same for him or Dean. He’s either sabotaged their friendship or forged their relationship, and their fate is now in the hands of the 18-year-old boy who holds the mail.

\---------------

Dean shuts the door behind him with his foot and drops the keys to the Impala on the small wooden table by the door. He starts sifting through the pile of mail and pauses on the weekly flyer for Target. He hasn’t purchased any notebooks or a backpack or actually any supplies he’ll need for college yet and the start date is looming ever closer. Cas has already chastised him innumerable times for waiting until the last minute to prepare for college. Dean’s staying at home and attending the nearby University of Kansas so he doesn’t really see the point in doing a lot of planning like Cas has been for months.

“DEAN!” Sam yells from his room upstairs.

“WHAT?” Dean yells back, flipping over the ad to check out the back side.

“I need your help with my algebra homework!”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a sec.”

Dean deposits the pile of junk mail on the countertop by the kitchen and heads up the stairs. He only has an hour before he and Cas are meeting up to head to Gino’s so Sam better make it quick.

\----------------

John Winchester pulls up to the driveway in his hulking black truck and parks next to the Impala, finally home after a long day at the garage. He’s tired and covered in a layer of grease, ready to take a shower to wash off the day and kick back in front of the TV with a cold beer or six.

When he gets out of his truck, he notices that the Impala needs a bit of a touch up and makes a mental note to tell Dean he’s not taking good enough care of his car. That boy is careless with all his things and god help him if he thinks he’s going to be careless with that car. John finally handed over the title to Dean as an acknowledgment of him graduating high school and being accepted to college. It was certainly more than he ever thought the boy capable of.

John shoulders his way through the front door and yells upstairs for Dean to come put away his things after he almost trips over the kid’s sneakers in the entryway.

He sighs and drops his beat-up silver travel mug in the sink. He’s too tired to do the dishes now so he ignores them in favor of sorting through the mail that’s been left out on the counter.

He takes all the ads in a crumpled handful and shoves them deep in the nearby trash can before he thumbs through the rest.

There’s a water bill, a new credit card offer, a notice from the DMV...He gets to a piece of folded-up notebook paper and stares at it, confused. It’s something that doesn’t belong in a pile of mail from the post office. He desperately hopes it’s not a note from Zachariah two doors down. That asshole had left a note on his truck last week, “politely” informing him that he put out his trash cans too early and the next time the pompous windbag would inform the homeowner’s association.

John sets down the rest of the mail distractedly and spreads the lined paper flat on the tile counter so he can read it.

It’s not from Zachariah.

The letter is addressed to Dean and a quick peek at the bottom reveals one Castiel Novak as the author. Why that kid would write a letter when he lives not 100 feet from them strikes him as odd. That boy certainly is an odd one, though.

John’s just about to call up the stairs for Dean, when the “love always” at the bottom of the page catches his eye. He skims through the content of the letter and almost crumples it in his increasingly tighter grip.

He always knew there was something _off_ about that boy. He had always been a little too emotional. And always following Dean around like a lost puppy. John fumes as he thinks about that fairy putting designs on his boy. He couldn’t be happier that kid is moving across the country in a few days and won’t be exposing his kids to that lifestyle anymore.

He’s still thinking about that when he becomes aware of footsteps pounding down the stairs. He hears Dean shout a goodbye to Sam and he barely has time to open the junk drawer in front of him, shove the letter inside, and slam it closed before Dean appears in the kitchen doorway.

“Hey, Dad. Sorry about the shoes,” Dean says, sheepishly, and picks up his sneakers to pull them on over his socks, lacing them up tightly. “I’m going out tonight. Sam’s in his room doing homework right now.” Dean carefully rolls the sleeves of his red and black flannel to his elbow. “I ordered pizza for you guys, it should be here soon. You got enough cash to cover it?”

John looks up at Dean, distracted. “Yeah. Got it.”

He raises his eyebrows in inquiry once he gets a good look at Dean’s styled hair and a whiff of cologne. “Hot date?” he asks.

Dean turns to grab his keys from beside the door. “Nope. Just hanging out with Cas. Night, Dad,” he gets out just before he disappears and slams the door a little too hard behind him.

John watches out the window as Dean bounds across their front yard and between the hedges to arrive at the Novak’s front door.

He’s glad he saw the letter before Dean did. Poor kid would have to deal with finding out his best friend had unnatural feelings towards him. Novak would be leaving soon and taking his sick ideas with him and Dean wouldn’t have to be exposed to them anymore. It was all for the best.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of the doorbell and went to meet the pizza man, pulling out his wallet on the way, hoping he had enough on him to cover the tip.


	4. The Rejection

Cas is cursing himself for making plans with Dean tonight. If only they hadn’t, then Cas could have stayed hidden away until he got on the plane to California.

It’s been almost an hour since Dean arrived home and Cas hasn’t seen hide nor hair of him. Cas is pretty sure he knows what that means. Dean doesn’t feel the same way. He read the letter and is trying to figure out how to act with Cas now after knowing the truth. Surely if he returned Cas’s feelings, Dean would have run straight over to Cas’s house, taken him up in his arms, and kissed him thoroughly. That’s the way Cas has imagined it happening, anyway.

He suddenly feels overwhelmed with his own negative thoughts, and he focuses on pushing them away. What’s done is done. He’ll face Dean tonight and just hope that he doesn’t treat him any differently. And if he does, well, he’s leaving in two days and won’t see Dean for several months. That will give the time he needs to forget about it. If that’s even possible.

Cas stays lying on his bed, talking himself down off the ledge, until it’s almost time to meet Dean. When he’s already spent too long staring at those stupid glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, he gets up and stands in front of his closet, wondering what to wear. What does one wear to their own funeral? Should he wear all black?

He changes his clothes an embarrassing number of times and spends much too long trying to get his hair to lay right. No matter what, he wants to look good. Maybe Dean will even rethink his rejection if Cas looks handsome enough. Although, if Dean could see him spending so much care getting ready, he would probably call him a girl. Cas finally settles on his favorite jeans, his black Chucks, and the blue button-down shirt that Charlie says brings out his eyes.

After he’s done, he wonders if Dean will actually think it’s sad that Cas dressed up for him. If he'll pity Cas for having made the mistake of falling in love with his best friend. Right now Cas is convinced that there's nothing worse than to be forced to spend the majority of your waking time with someone you love deeply but who doesn't love you back. It's torture. He hopes Dean understands that and realizes that he had to tell him how he felt.

Cas pauses, mid-button. Is what he did selfish? Was it _wrong_ to tell Dean that he loved him? All he was thinking about was how much better he would feel if he got it off his chest and didn't have to spend his entire life wondering. Or how he would deal with it if it went sour, his plan for being able to move on, how he would deal with it. It was all about him. He didn't stop to think about Dean's feelings in all of this. Maybe Dean would be angry at Cas for ruining their friendship. Maybe, after this, there wouldn't be a friendship to salvage. 

Cas feels sick as he fiddles with his clothes nervously. Dean should be here any minute.

He takes a long took at himself in the mirror and breathes slowly, in and out. Everything will be fine, he tells himself. Dean will understand. He won’t let this come between fourteen years of deep, abiding friendship.

The buzz of the doorbell startles him from his thoughts and makes the bottom drop out of his stomach. Dean’s arrived.

He wonders if he should tell Dean he’s sick and can’t go out. He doesn’t know what he was thinking writing that letter. It was a stupid flame of hope in his chest and the thought in the back of his head of “maybe”. The thought that was still there, niggling at his mind.

Cas takes one more look in the mirror and starts a slow trudge down the stairs. He’s not sure what to do. He figures he’ll know for sure as soon as he sees Dean. He’ll be able to tell if he’s mad or grossed out. Maybe Dean has just been waiting for the right moment to tell Cas that he does feel the same way? Maybe he waited to respond to the letter until he picked Cas up for a real date?

Cas stands on the other side of the door for too long, trying to convince himself to open it. He takes several deep breaths and steels himself for the inevitable feeling of rejection. He stands there for so long Dean impatiently rings the doorbell again and Cas forces himself to open the door, schooling his face into neutrality so he’s prepared for any outcome.

Dean’s back is to him but starts to turn when he hears the door open.

The first thing Cas notices is that Dean looks a little nicer than he usually does for their Friday night hangouts. He’s wearing his best jeans - the dark ones with no holes - and his favorite red and black buffalo-check plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. It’s too warm out for his ever-present leather jacket so he’s forgone it tonight. The effect makes him look almost bare, possibly vulnerable. His short hair looks coiffed, like he actually put some product in it. Cas can also smell a hint of that musky cologne that he loves so much. It always makes Dean smell irresistible to him and tonight is no exception.

For one, singular moment, Cas thinks that this is it. Dean has dressed up a little for him, dabbed on a little cologne for him, styled his hair for him. That tiny balloon of hope that had taken residence in Cas’s chest is expanding rapidly, making him feel light and joyous. A happy smile splits Cas’s face before he can help it. He never thought this would actually happen. Maybe Dean is about to grab his face and kiss him deeply, just like he’s always imagined. He can feel his heart clench.

Instead, Dean just gestures in a short, frustrated manner and sighs. “Dude, finally. What took you so long?”

Cas deflates.

Dean rolls his eyes, though his lips quirk upwards in a small, exasperated smile, and he shifts impatiently from foot to foot. “Come on, man, let’s go. I’m starving.”

Cas can’t find it in himself to move. Or to even respond. He feels like his feet are stuck in cement, unable to move from the spot just inside the front door. The only moveable thing about him, apparently, is his dumb fucking smile, which began to fall the second Dean began to speak.

Grabbing Cas’s arm, Dean starts pulling him towards the Impala. Cas barely has enough sense to pull the door closed behind them. It’s no different than any of the other times they’ve hung out and that’s what’s so devastating. Suddenly, there’s a pit in the middle of his stomach and he doesn’t think he could eat a thing.

Dean’s acting like nothing has changed. Cas knows he asked him to, but he didn’t really believe he would acquiesce to his request. He thought he had prepared himself for this, but he realizes that no preparation could have helped him with this feeling of rejection.

It _hurts_.

Part of him is grateful that Dean has gone along with his wishes and not mentioned the letter and part of him is filled with shame. Dean _knows_ now, and Cas feels so very foolish. Tears burn in the back of Cas’s eyes and his throat thickens and feels like it's trying to close up.

“Hello? Earth to Castiel!” Dean is waving his hand frantically in front of Cas’s face.

“Sorry, Dean,” Cas manages to get out without sounding too strangled. He steels himself and clears his throat. No matter what, Cas will not cry in front of Dean. Not right now. And he’ll be damned if he’s going to acknowledge the letter after Dean has so coolly been able to ignore it. It’d be cruel, what Dean was doing to him right now, if Cas hadn’t been the one to direct him to behave this way. _Now_ , Cas thinks, _we both know the other is acting._

“I guess it’s just hit me that I’m leaving on Friday,” is the excuse he comes up with. He needs a plausible reason for the aching sadness he feels deep in his chest. He’s sure it shows; Cas was never very good at hiding his emotions.

“Yeah,” Dean looks down at his lap with a far off look in his eye. For a second, Cas thinks he sees his own misery reflected in Dean’s face. “I get that.” He clears his throat roughly and picks a loose thread on his jeans.

When he says, “I’m really gonna miss you, Cas,” he sounds genuinely sorrowful. It’s pretty clear that Dean will miss Cas in at least his capacity as his best friend. Cas tells himself that’s enough.

The sad look on Dean’s face is quickly replaced with a smile. “But, hey,” he says, “we got one more Friday night and games are on me!” Dean pulls a Ziploc baggie filled with quarters from where it was stashed in the footwell. It looks like every quarter they’ve saved in Dean’s piggy bank for the last twelve years. Well, at least all the ones still left after their various piggy bank raids over the years. “Let’s make the most of it.”

Right then, Cas decides to forget the letter too, just for tonight. Dean is his best friend in the world, and he’s going to miss him dearly. When he’s lying alone in his bed tonight, he’ll let himself breakdown and cry. The man he’s in love with is sitting right next to him, not returning his affections. But tonight they’re just best friends who are going out for pizza and arcade games. Cas will let himself be heartbroken tomorrow.

“Come on, Dean.” Cas gives Dean a small smile, hoping to convey to him that it’s okay. It’s okay that he doesn’t feel the same way. Dean can’t help how he feels, or doesn’t feel. It’s not fair to blame or punish him. Cas is lucky that Dean still wants to be friends with him, knowing that.

He needs to let Dean know that they’re still best friends. Cas doesn’t hold it against him.

Cas summons all of his energy to keep the smile in place. “Let’s get to Gino’s before it gets too packed,” he insists. Dean might not know it, but this is Cas’s way of trying to accept whatever Dean has to offer.

“You got it, Cas.”

Dean puts the Impala in gear and pulls out onto the street.

______________

Later that night, much later, Cas is lying in bed, staring up at the stars through his open bedroom window. 

He doesn't need the stars to feel very small tonight. 

He's spent the last hour crying into his pillow, trying to muffle the sound so his parents' wouldn't hear. Not that they'd care. Now he's lying on his back, wrapped tightly in his comforter, staring blankly. 

Being confronted with the evidence of Dean's lack of reciprocation was devastating. He tried to prepare himself, but he sees now that there's no way he could have prepared for this. 

When he's run out of tears, he vows to spend the next four years getting over Dean. It's not Dean's fault that Cas fell for him, but its not Cas's fault either. Then why does it feel like he's being punished?

Emotionally exhausted, Cas has one last thought before he drifts off to sleep.

Someday, he'll find someone who loves him back. 


	5. The Parting

Cas is checking his list for at least the tenth time since he woke up this morning. He’s almost certain he has everything packed for his move. He has one large suitcase filled entirely with clothes. That one is practically bursting at the seams even though he’s left all his winter gear at home, except for a couple relatively thin jackets. There are also two boxes of books and other miscellaneous items for his dorm room. He got a single since he was so worried about sharing a space with a stranger, so he’ll have a little extra room for his things.  Also packed in those boxes are a few things Dean gave him as a going-away present: a Star Wars DVD box set, a few Batman comics, and a decent bottle of scotch.  He must have weaseled Ash into buying him that last one.

Cas is almost certain he’s going to spend his first night in his dorm with the Star Wars DVDs and alcohol. He’s been trying to keep it together but it’s been hard to say the least. Cas has been wallowing in his pain for the past couple days.

Friday evening after he and Dean went out to Gino’s they spent the rest of the night on Dean’s porch “shootin’ the shit,” as Dean called it. It had been nice to spend some quality time with Dean before he left but it was also tainted by the overwhelming sadness and hurt Cas felt whenever he thought about Dean’s rejection.  Not to mention the embarrassment and shame.

On one hand, it had been kind of Dean to not let Cas’s confession ruin the last real time they would spend together before Cas moved across the country, but it also hurt Cas to think that Dean knows how torn up Cas must be at the realization and isn’t acknowledging his pain. Cas knows that Dean is just doing what he requested of him, and he certainly can’t blame him for that. Despite these conflicted feelings Cas is having, he knows he made the right decision in asking Dean not to respond. Dean is not always good about talking frankly about how he’s feeling. Regardless of how Dean feels about Cas’s confession, he would never voluntarily hurt Cas’s feelings. Dean is doing his best to let Cas down easy, and Cas appreciates it.  

What Cas does know is that his hopes have effectively been decimated.  He had known that this was as likely an outcome as any before he even penned the letter, but he had still, stupidly, hung on to a bit of hope. 

Well, now he knows better. He’s just trying to get through the days, go through the motions.  Do everything he needs to get done before he can move away from this place, from the only home he’s ever known.  Away from his best friend and the boy who broke his heart without even trying.

Cas has been dreading this day ever since he had decided it was in his best interest to accept the invitation to study at UC Berkeley, when Dean had informed him that he would be staying in Kansas and pursuing his mechanical engineering degree at University of Kansas.  Whenever Cas had thought about going to college someday, he had imagined he and Dean going together.  They’ve done practically everything together for the past fourteen years and have rarely left each other's sides.  Cas had thought it was pretty much a given. 

When he and Dean had started applying to colleges together, they did it all together. Cas gave his list of top twelve colleges to Dean and asked which ones Dean was interested in attending as well. Dean expressed the same desire that Cas had to move to a different part of the country and get out of Kansas. Cas needed to get away from his overbearing and religious mother and Dean wanted to get away from his demanding father who never thought he was good enough. They could go somewhere more progressive together. The two best friends both shared their dreams of moving to California where it was warm, sunny, and liberal.

Cas had his eye on several of the schools there - Stanford, UC Berkeley, and UCLA were all on his short list. Dean was less enthusiastic about Stanford on account of it being a private school and what he called “hoity toity,” but was very much for both UC Berkeley and UCLA.

What Cas wanted the most out of any of these schools was somewhere where Dean could get out from under his dad’s thumb and learn to be open about his sexuality instead of feeling like he had to keep it under wraps. Cas was also desperate to get away from his family. He had finally come out to them two years ago when he became sick of having to live a double life - one at school where he was deliberately open about his sexuality and one at home where he felt like he had to pretend to be someone else. His mother, as usual, had been cruel. She told him it was sinful and that he was destined for hell. She insisted that it must be a phase and thought that he was just trying to be rebellious. She forced him to go to church every single Sunday, when before she had turned a blind eye whenever he and Dean spent their Sunday mornings at the comic book store instead. Cas’s father had little to no reaction whatsoever, as usual. Although Chuck Novak was often kind, he spent all his time shut away in his office writing and barely took any part in family affairs. Part of Cas was hurt more by his father not defending him than he was by his mother’s antics. Most of the time, Cas felt abandoned by his father even though he was just on the other side of a closed door.

Cas had to admit that part of him had settled on UC Berkeley as his dream school because he knew it was the choice that would irritate his conservative mother the most.  The best part was that the academic program was so good there, she wasn’t able to outright refuse his choice.

When Cas received his acceptance package from UC Berkeley in the mail, he had run over to the Winchesters’ as fast as he could. He was so excited to tell Dean he had gotten in and they had hugged tightly and jumped around the living room with Sam, who had been doing his homework at the dining room table when Cas had come tearing in.

It was three days later when Dean received his “we regret to inform you” letter from UC Berkeley.  While Dean’s grades had been slightly lower than Cas’s during his freshman and sophomore year, Dean had worked really hard junior and senior year to bring them up to snuff. Besides, Cas thought Dean’s personal statement essay alone would have gotten him in. It was so well-written and inspiring. He wrote about his little brother and how he wanted to go to college and achieve his dreams so he could be a good enough role model for Sam.

Cas was devastated, mostly for Dean. He had known that his friend had been looking forward to going to California, and to Berkeley especially. Cas had been looking forward to it too, but as soon as Dean was rejected, he had thrown the idea out the window. He kept the acceptance packet in his desk, but he literally and mentally closed the door on it.  There were still six other schools they had a chance of both being accepted to. Cas figured UCLA was now at the top of the list.

When Cas took his list back to Dean with all the strikethroughs and margin notes, and asked Dean what their new plan should be, Dean looked at Cas like he had kicked his puppy.

“Dude.” Dean shook his head. “Berkeley is your top school. You can’t not go just because I didn’t get in.”

He got up and started pacing the room. “We knew this was a possibility. The idea that I could get into all the same schools as you was a stretch to begin with.”

“Dean,” Cas started.

Dean interrupted him.  “C’mon, Dude. I know. I hoped…” He started fiddling with the books stacked on top of his desk, opening and closing the jacket of _On the Road_.

“But anyway, that’s just the way it is. And I can’t let you not go to your dream school just because I didn't get in!”

Dean finally met Cas’s eye.  Dean’s face was passive, in a blank way that Cas could tell he was trying extra hard to look unaffected. “I want you to go to your dream school. Even if I can’t go with you.” He looked away again. “And anyway, I’ve already decided I’m going to go to KU.”

They had both applied to KU as their “safety school”. It was close by and they were absolutely certain they would both be accepted. They both _had_ been accepted just a few weeks ago.

Dean finally sat down on the edge of his bed, facing the desk chair where Cas was currently seated, stunned.

“I’ve thought about it a lot and this idea to run off to California; it was just a dream for me…like how people dream about what they would do if they won the lottery.”

Cas tried to interrupt again but Dean talked right over him, not giving him a chance to respond.

“I can’t leave Sam,” Dean said with finality, but his eyes were pleading with Cas to understand, to not make this harder than it had to be.

“When we were making all our plans, I was just thinking about what _I_ wanted and I was ignoring all the reasons that I can’t leave.” Dean hung his head, staring at his knees.

Cas felt blindsided. They had discussed all of this. “Dean, it’s okay to do things that you want to do. We talked about this before,” Cas said gently, putting a hand on Dean’s knee. “You don’t need to feel guilty about wanting things for yourself.”

Dean looked up at Cas, an unreadable expression on his face.  “Yeah.” His voice came out a little scratchy, he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know. I just can’t leave Sam,” he started with conviction.

“Not alone with my Dad. You know I can’t do that. I’d be worrying all the time. Sam would be miserable. They’d kill each other, Cas, you know they would.” He was imploring Cas to understand but all Cas could think about was how, come August, Dean was going to stay here. The place where Cas had promised himself he would leave the second the opportunity arose.

Cas was devastated. He felt like crying. In fact, he felt himself tearing up.

“Cas,” Dean said gently, grabbing his elbow. “C’mon, man, don’t cry.” He pulled Cas by his arm into a hug.

“I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry I fucked everything up. I know this wasn’t how you planned for things to go.” Dean rubbed Cas’s back gently.

Part of Cas felt betrayed. He knew Dean didn’t purposefully lead him on, but he couldn’t help but feel incredibly let down by Dean’s decision. The fact of the matter was that Dean had merely changed his mind, as he had a right to. Cas didn’t want Dean to blame himself. If this is what he thought he needed to do, then Cas had to support him.

Cas pulled back and wiped his eyes. “No, I’m okay.” He sat back in the chair and looked at Dean. Dean looked guilty, and Cas didn’t want that.

“It’s okay, Dean; it’s not your fault,” he insisted.  “I just…” He took a shaky breath, “I just don’t want to move so far away without you. I don’t know how to do that. You’re my best friend. You’re more than my best friend, you’re my family. If I move to California, we’re barely going to see each other.”

A new wave of tears hit him but he tried to choke them back. “All my plans revolved around us moving there together. I can’t do it on my own.” He used the bottom of his tee shirt to wipe his face.

“You know I have trouble talking to people - making friends. That’s why I need you.” Cas avoided Dean’s eyes. It was one of the many reasons he needed him, not least of which was that he was head over heels in love with him and couldn't fathom spending so long apart.

Dean squeezed Cas’s hand. “Cas, you’re awesome. You don’t need me to help you make friends. Once people get to know you, they love you. You got this. Don’t let that stop you from doing what you want to do.”

Castiel was bereft. He didn’t know what to do now. Should he stay in Kansas, with his parents who didn’t understand him? Or should he move to California alone and try to make it all on his own, without his best friend at his side?

That was five months ago.

It had taken a lot of thought and a lot of tears, but Cas had finally decided that he would move to California on his own. There were many mixed feelings he had dealt with since his decision. Part of him was excited. He was finally going to be moving to California, going to his dream school and, best of all, he would be free from his parents’ oppressive rules and opinions. But he would be nearly 2,000 miles away from his best friend and lifetime sidekick. He would be all alone, trying to navigate living in a new place and _hopefully_ making new friends. It certainly wasn’t the experience he envisioned when he first had this dream. He thought he would be sharing an apartment with Dean, having his best friend, the man he loves, by his side in a place where they could both be free to be themselves.

It didn’t turn out how he had hoped, but he would try to make the best of it. Now it seemed like he made the right choice. He would go to live in California for the better part of four years and that would be the perfect opportunity to get over Dean. He hoped they would still be best friends. They had promised frequent texting and Skype calls to each other, but Cas was hoping that the time spent physically apart from Dean would make the feelings he’s been harboring for the past four years disappear.

Those few months ago, being apart from Dean had seemed like his worst nightmare. Now it seemed like it was what was best for him. While it hurts a lot to have the boy he loves reject him, he now knows that he doesn’t have a chance and he has the opportunity to move on. Knowing that doesn’t make Cas feel any better. He had been trying not to cry again all day as he finished packing.

Dean was the boy who helped Cas come out of his shell. When he was in grade school, Cas was so shy, he could barely speak to anyone. And Dean, with his outgoing and boisterous attitude, who was so good at talking to people and making friends, had helped Cas to not let his insecurities get the best of him. He had taught Cas to be confident in himself and he was helping him even now by encouraging him to go out into the world and spread his wings.

“Castiel!!!” His mother’s shrill voice rings out from downstairs. “It’s time to go! Bring your things downstairs!”

Cas shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. _This is it._

As he drags his heavy suitcase down the stairs, he tries to talk himself into feeling okay about all of this.

So he and Dean aren’t destined to be boyfriends. They’ll never get to kiss or make love. Cas will never feel Dean’s perfect, pillowy lips against his own. He’ll never get to hold Dean’s hand in public, call him his boyfriend, or study the freckles on his chest. So what? They’re still best friends. They’re still family to one another. They love each other dearly. Just not in the same way. This didn’t turn out the way Cas has been dreaming about, but their story is still a love story. It’s just not the kind of love Cas was longing for. Now he just needs to learn to be okay with that.


	6. The Reunion

“Come on, Clarence.” Meg says insistently. “We’re going to be late to the graduation ceremony if you don’t hurry the fuck up.”

Castiel rolls his eyes and straightens his tie one last time.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

He grabs his long, black gown and blue and gold sash from his closet and meets his friend Meg at the door. She actually put makeup on today - a dark, smoky eye and a vampy lip go well with her deep maroon dress, which is currently hidden under her polyester gown. Her long dark hair is curled and left hanging loose around her shoulders instead of the messy bun it's usually in.

Cas met Meg in freshman year Intro to Biology and they became instant friends. Meg was obviously not put off by Cas’s quiet insecurity or lack of any social skills. Sophomore year, they had moved off campus and rented the apartment they were currently living in together, becoming roommates. Just like Dean had been for Cas when he was younger, Meg was the loud and outgoing one who helped him make other friends and pushed him out of his shell even further. Being away from his parents had finally given Cas the freedom to do what he really wanted and become his own person.

Thinking of Dean, Cas pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time. Dean texted him earlier and said they were running late and would have to meet Cas at the graduation ceremony instead of the apartment like they had originally planned.

Cas is excited to see Dean again.

Dean had visited Cas in California almost every spring break over the past four years and Cas had gone back to Kansas over the holidays each year and the one summer between freshman and sophomore year.  Besides that, they only saw each other over Skype. They did text frequently though - almost daily. Even though Meg has become Cas’s closest friend in California, Castiel still consideres Dean his _best_ friend.

And he had been right about being physically apart from Dean making it easier to live with his unrequited feelings. Cas was honest enough with himself to say he was and would never be completely over Dean. Part of him would always love him. But he had been forced to come to terms with the fact that Dean wasn’t and would never be interested in him as more than that. Cas had dated a few guys in his time at Berkeley. None of them had stuck, and he was currently single, but it was nice to know that there were plenty of guys out there who were interested in Cas and desired him as a partner, even if it wasn’t the one man he wanted to desire him.

Cas and Meg hurry through the crowded campus, trying to get to the football field where the keynote speech would be. Meg growls after being run into by yet another oblivious person in a black graduation gown.

“This is going to be so boring,” she groans. “I can’t believe you talked me into coming to this.”

Cas pulls his gown on as they’re walking and laughs. “I would have been very happy to skip all this and just get my diploma in the mail but my parents blackmailed me into coming. And Dean and Sam wanted to come too. If I have to go, then so do you.”

Meg rolls her eyes. Well, Cas can’t exactly see her roll her eyes, since she’s walking in front of him. But he knows her well enough.

Cas feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulls it out.

_Dean: Made it! I had to pay an obscene amount to park Baby but me and Sam just got to our seats._

Cas slowly composes a text back, careful not to collide with anyone, as he and Meg are walking onto the field.

_Cas: Meg and I just made it here too. We were running a little late. Let’s meet at my apartment after the ceremony. I think it will be too crazy here to find each other afterwards._

Cas hits send and shoves the phone back in his pocket, steeling himself for the boredom that he knows is about to ensue. He pulls his mortarboard from under his arm onto his head, settling the tassel to the side, and makes his way to his seat.

\-----------------

As Cas had predicted, the field after the ceremony was chaos.  He would have never been able to find Sam and Dean, so he was glad he told them to meet back home instead.

It took way too long to get across campus, bobbing and weaving through the dense crowd, and down the few blocks to his and Meg’s apartment so that by the time they got there he was already sweating through his button up. The tie had come off as soon as the ceremony was over and was currently resting, curled up in the pocket of his slacks. He knew he’d have to put it back on before he went to dinner at the unnecessarily fancy restaurant where his parents were taking them tonight, but he enjoyed the less restrictive feeling of his unbuttoned collar for now.

There the Impala sits, big and imposing, on the street in front of their building. Cas sees it as soon as he rounds the corner. The sight of that car always brings back the best memories - driving too fast down a backroad with Dean in the driver’s seat, blasting AC/DC, or laying on the hood in an empty field on a star-lit night, drinking a pilfered beer with Dean at his side, driving the three and a half hours to Omaha to see the remaining members of Lynyrd Skynyrd play live.

Excitement is bubbling up in his chest at the thought of seeing Dean again. Maybe it’s a combination of the exhilaration of finally finishing his undergraduate degree and the nostalgia of remembering his times in Kansas but an uncontainable joy is spreading through him and a laugh bubbles out of his throat. He slaps Meg on the ass and runs the rest of the way to the stairs of their building.

“Slow down, Clarence, you’re going to pull something!” He hears Meg shout behind him as he takes the stairs two at a time. He bursts through the unlocked door of his apartment to find Dean and Sam lounging in the living room, looking completely at ease.

Dean jumps up at once, a smile spreading over his face, but barely has time to react before Cas runs into his arms and hugs him tight. Dean is such a beautiful sight. He’s wearing black slacks and an olive green button down, rolled up to his elbows. His white smile is as beautiful as ever and his eyes are alight with happiness. There's just a little bit of stubble left on his face, not quite clean shaven. He looks gorgeous. It makes something clench in Cas's chest to see him. 

“Dude.” Dean thumps Cas on the back. “You should really lock your door. Any crazy person could walk in off the street,” he jokes, ruffling Cas’s hair.

Cas chuckles and pulls back, his hand on Dean’s shoulder, to get a better look at him. “I missed you, Dean,” he confesses quietly.

Dean’s face softens. “I missed you too, Cas,” he says as he pats Cas on the shoulder and gives it a squeeze before he drops his hand, “but I’m here for an entire three weeks this time, so get used to me.”

Dean graduated from KU two weeks ago and doesn’t yet have a job. He told Cas about a month ago that he would drive to California for his graduation and stay to help Cas pack to move out when their lease was up in a little over a week. Then he would drive Cas to Los Angeles, where Cas had a new job and a new apartment waiting for him. He’s going to be the new English teacher at the Elite Preparatory Academy. He's a little ashamed that his mother got him the job, but not ashamed enough not to take it. 

Cas just smiles at Dean fondly and turns to the younger brother.

Sam is standing off to the side, looking taller than Cas remembers. His hair looks longer too. A few months ago, Cas learned that Sam is planning to attend Stanford in the fall. Sam and Dean stopped there yesterday to check out the campus and accommodations before driving up to Berkeley. Dean called Cas last night to tell him about their tour and gushed about how great Sam looked on campus. Dean was so proud of Sam, and Cas couldn’t be prouder of him, himself. It was hard to believe baby Sammy was all grown-up and going to one of the most prestigious schools in the nation.

Sam gets a hug just as tight as Dean’s.

“Sam,” Cas says, “it’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you, too.”

Cas hasn’t gotten to see Sam as often as he would have liked. The only times they’ve seen each other have been whenever Cas went home to Kansas, which wasn’t often. Despite that, they texted pretty frequently, sometimes directly or sometimes in a group text with Dean. Lately, Sam had been texting him a lot more frequently about moving to California and all the worries and excitement he felt about going away to college.

“Good to finally see you too. Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Sam.” Cas smiles. “How was Stanford?”

Dean is already sprawled in the corner of the sagging, brown second-hand sectional and Sam flops down next to him.

“It was awesome, Cas,” Sam gushes. “I can’t wait for fall.”

Dean reaches over and ruffles Sam’s hair. “Enjoy your time off, little brother. Once you get to Stanford, I know you’ll spend all your time studying, like the nerd you are.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “I have to study to get good grades, Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean quips.

Meg had trailed in behind them while they were greeting each other and is now banging around in the kitchen. She enters the living room with a freshly uncapped bottle of beer in her hand, her mortarboard and gown nowhere in sight.

“Speaking of bitches, it's nice to see you too, Meg,” Dean offers with an exaggerated smile.

“Such a pleasure, Dean-o” Meg drawls, bringing the beer to her lips.

For some reason that Cas can’t quite figure out, Meg and Dean have never gotten along. From the very first time Cas had introduced them during spring break of freshman year, they had shared some sort of instantaneous animosity and now only tolerated each other for the sake of Cas.  They were both his dear friends and he usually tried to ignore them whenever they went at each other’s throats.

Meg takes another deep pull from her beer and sits heavily on the arm of the couch. “What time are Mommy and Daddy taking us out to dinner?” she asks.

Cas’s parents wanted to take him out to a snooty restaurant to celebrate his graduation. He had told them that they would have to take Sam and Dean as well, since they were staying with him.  When Cas found out that Meg’s dad wouldn’t be able to attend the graduation either, he insisted they invite Meg as well. He knew she didn’t really care about celebrating her graduation all that much but he didn’t want her to be alone at the apartment while they all went out.

“Reservations are at seven thirty,” Cas says, taking a seat on the other side of Dean.

Despite the bickering, Cas smiles, glad he has all the people he cares about the most together in one place.

\---------------

Later that night, Cas is in his room, pulling off his blue tie for the last time that day. After dinner with his parents, Cas, Dean, Sam, and Meg had gone to one of their classmate’s graduation parties. They hung out and had a few beers but after a couple hours, Cas could tell Dean was flagging. He had driven the entire 26 hours to get here, with only one night spent in a motel at the halfway point. Cas is sure that he had not let Sam drive for very many of those miles, if any.

It was a little after midnight when Cas suggested they call it a night and Dean and Sam had both readily agreed. Meg had stayed behind to hang out with her friends from art class and Cas made her promise not to walk home alone before they walked home themselves.

When they got back to the apartment, Cas had given Dean and Sam some space to get ready for bed in the shared bathroom and living room and retreated to his own bedroom where he was undressing for bed.

There’s a brief knock before Dean opens the door and sticks his head in.  The rest of him follows shortly after, clad only in black boxer briefs and an old, faded Led Zeppelin tee.

“Hey, is it cool if I bunk in here with you?” Dean closes the door quietly behind him. “There’s no room for me on the couch with Sasquatch.”

Even though the couch is a spacious sectional model, Cas doesn’t doubt that after seeing how much Sam has grown since the last time he saw him.

Cas smiles, “sure, Dean.” He hangs his tie carefully on the rarely used tie-hanger his mother had given him for Christmas last year. “Just like old times.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, exactly.” He dives under the blanket and settles on the far side of the bed. “Now, to really harken back, we need to tell each other ghost stories underneath the covers with a flashlight.”

Cas laughs and shakes his head. “When I think of some of those stories you told me back then, I can't believe they actually gave me nightmares.”

Cas pulls off his black slacks, revealing his gray boxer briefs, and folds them over a hanger in his closet. The hull of the pirate ship tattoo on his left thigh is peeking out from the bottom of his briefs, stormy blue waves flowing down to just above his knee.

“Still particular about your clothes,” Dean comments, wryly. As if it is some sort of flaw on Castiel’s part, to like his things neat and orderly.

Cas just rolls his eyes even though his back is to Dean and starts unbuttoning his white dress shirt.  “Let me guess, you rolled yours up into a ball and shoved them to the bottom of your duffle bag?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, as if there wasn’t any other sane way to do things.

Cas shakes his head, amused, and pulls his shirt off his shoulders. There’s an empty hanger ready and waiting for it right in front of him and he starts to hang it up.

“Dude!” Dean exclaims. “Your new tattoo. I totally forgot!”

Cas turns just as Dean comes up to his back, having jumped out of bed.

“Oh, yes, I forgot you hadn’t seen it yet,” Cas presents his back to Dean. Castiel had two giant wings tattooed onto his back a couple months ago. He had the idea for awhile now but never went through with it until he decided it was something he wanted to do to commemorate his graduation.

It had something to do with being named after an angel, he supposed, but it was more about having learned to “spread his wings,” so to speak.  When he looked back at the man, or boy, really, who he was when he moved to California and who he was now, he saw a completely different person. He was transformed. That’s what the wings really meant to him.

Dean ran a hand softly down the right side of Castiel’s back, tracing the outline of one of the wings. “These are awesome, man,” he says quietly.

The touch of Dean’s hand sends shivers down Cas’s back. He hasn’t been touched by Dean, bare skin to bare skin, in a very long time. Just the simple graze feels thrilling and Cas has to gather his thoughts to be able to respond. “Thanks,” he whispers quietly.

“They suit you perfectly.  Did it hurt?” Dean asks, stepping back. Cas instantly misses the heat of his proximity and the warmth of his touch.

“It hurt a little, and I had to sit for a long time to finish them.” Cas confesses, turning back around to get to his dresser.

“Holy crap!” Dean exclaims. “You pierced your nipples, too???”

“Oh,” Cas looks down at his chest, as if he needed confirmation they were there.

He had gotten them done on a whim after the last of his wings had been completed. “Yes,” he replies slowly. He’s not sure if Dean will think it’s weird or not. Although Dean had expressed a desire to get a tattoo at some point, he had never acted on it. Unlike Cas, who now had seven other tattoos, besides the wings.

One of Cas’s favorites is a big, colorful galaxy piece on his right shoulder, stretching down his upper arm. Cas has always loved space, but for some reason the stars always made him think of Dean. He’s pretty sure that tattoo was at least a little bit inspired by his love for Dean.

There’s also the bust of a majestic stag on his left side, just below his rib cage. That was the first tattoo he had done, shortly after he had moved to Berkeley. In one of the Music classes he opted to take, he had learned the story of [Cantana Profana](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cantata_Profana).

It was a story about boys being transformed into stags and forever changed that had resonated with Cas, feeling like he was the one transformed by his move to a vastly different place. He felt that he was the one who had grown antlers and was destined to live in a wild place from now on, changed so much he would never be able to call Kansas his home again, having become something his family could never understand. When he looks up again, Dean is staring blatantly at his chest. Cas has the strangest desire to cross his arms and cover up but he resists.

“Do you think it's weird?” Cas asks, finally, not sure how to take Dean’s silence.

“Uh, no - no” Dean gulps and shakes his head.  “They’re, uh, cool. I just didn’t expect it that’s all.”

Cas lets out a small breath. He shouldn't have worried about his judgment. Dean always accepts him exactly as he is.

“Thanks. I had been thinking about doing it for awhile and I just decided to get them done when I was getting my wings.”

Cas pulls his old Cal tee out of the drawer and yanks it over his head.

“A guy I dated had them and I really loved how they looked,” he explains.

After pulling back the covers and plugging in his phone, Cas finds Dean staring at his chest when he starts to climb into bed, as if trying to see through his shirt. When Dean realizes he’s been caught staring, he looks away.

“Now, those had to have hurt.” Dean winces dramatically, “I don’t even want to think about a needle coming close to my nips.”

Cas chuckles as he gets settled. “It did hurt quite a bit, but sometimes pain is fun,” he says, playfully.

Dean splutters for a second before laughing full out. “You kinky son of a bitch.”

Cas laughs with him and winks at Dean before reaching over to turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Well, almost darkness. The ceiling is full of those glow-in-the-dark plastic stars that adorned Cas’s childhood bedroom for so long.

“Oh my god, seriously? You’re such a dork,” Dean says when he sees them.

Cas smiles to himself. “I missed them. They’re comforting.” _They remind me of you_ , he doesn’t say. He turns over on his side to face Dean, who’s looking at him like, despite Cas’s tattoos and piercings and leather jackets, he’s glad Cas is still the same dorky kid he was in high school.

Sharing a bed and laughing under the cover of darkness does bring Cas back to their time as youth, although now there was decidedly less room in the bed than there was back then.

Cas just lies there, staring at Dean’s shape in the dark before his thoughts are interrupted by a whisper from Dean.  “Cas?”

“Yeah?” Cas replies in a matching whisper.

“I have something to tell you,” Dean clears his throat, sounding nervous. Cas stills, waiting for Dean to continue, hoping it’s not bad news.

“I, uh,” Dean shifts, pulling the duvet farther down his body to free his arms. “I just got the call about it today, but I-,” Cas hears him take a purposefully deep breath. “I have a job interview.”

Cas is silent for a moment.  That certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. He doesn’t know what he was expecting Dean to say but something with more enormity than a job interview. Although he was certainly happy that Dean had prospects since graduating just a few short weeks ago.  

“That’s great, Dean,” Cas starts, when he’s suddenly struck with the idea that Dean might be telling him this because he would have to return to Kansas earlier than previously planned. His heart sinks.  Cas has been looking forward to spending this time with Dean and would be very sorry to see it cut short, but he couldn't be mad since he knew Dean really needed a full-time job.

“When do you have to get back to Kansas, then?” Cas asks, worried it will be much sooner than he wants.

Dean shifts again, the blanket rustling in the quiet room, and is silent for a couple beats too long before he speaks. “The job isn’t in Kansas,” he explains quietly.

“Then, where is it?” Cas asks, confused.

Dean clears his throat twice before he finally answers. “Um, it’s in Los Angeles.”

Cas is instantly perturbed that they are in the dark and wishes he could see Dean’s face better than in the low light of the half moon through the window.

“Los Angeles?” Cas repeats, dumbly.

“Yeah,” Dean shifts restlessly again, as if unable to stay still. “You know that guy Benny I worked on the school paper with at KU? He, uh, graduated last year, you know, and he has a job at Motor Trend and he suggested me for this entry-level position. It’s mostly like assistant stuff at first, learning the ropes, but they’d eventually want me to be a writer.” Dean is talking a little too fast and starting to ramble, as he does whenever he’s nervous about something.

“And, anyway, so I sent them some writing samples from the newspaper,” Dean explains. “And, well, I guess they liked what they read because they called me yesterday and asked if I could come in and interview.”

Cas is still processing what Dean just said when he starts rambling again.  

“I kinda thought it was time to finally move to California. I mean you’re here and in a couple months, Sam will be living here too. There’s nothing really left for me in Kansas. And I figured, if I get a job in LA, maybe we could be roommates.” Dean sounds nervous, like he isn’t sure if Cas will be receptive to the idea.

He hurries on, “I mean, we don’t have to. I just thought maybe we could finally make good on our plans to move to California together and be roomies. But, yeah, I could find my own place too, if you’d rather have your space….” Dean trails off.

Cas can’t believe that Dean wants to move to California, to move in with _him_. This was quite a surprise and it took him a moment to process the idea. He had given up on that particular dream long ago.

Dean starts up again before Cas can even open his mouth to reply. “I mean, I’ve been thinking, even if I don’t get that job, I’d still like to move. I could just move there first and then start looking for another job after I get settled in. There’re tons of jobs in L.A. I know I could find something, even if it's just working in a garage again for awhile. So, what are you thinking? You haven’t said anything,” Dean points out, nervously.

Cas holds back the eye roll and laughs.  “That’s because you won’t stop talking long enough to let me get a word in edgewise!” Cas exclaims, joyfully. He’s smiling ear to ear and grabs Dean’s hand under the covers. “Dean, I’m so happy for you! Motor Trend? That’s an amazing opportunity! Congratulations. You deserve it.”

Cas can see the curve of Dean's sheepish smile in the low light. “Dude, I don’t have the job yet.  It’s just an interview.”

Cas shakes his head. “I know, but you’ll kill it. And I’d love if we could be roommates. Now I don’t have to live with some weird stranger anymore!” He’s legitimately excited to hear the news and can’t contain himself.

Dean’s smile brightens. “Yeah?”

Cas just nods. “Yes, Dean. It’s perfect. I’m so glad you’ve decided to move! I know you hate living with your dad. This will be really good for you.” Cas is so happy for Dean to be able to get out from under his father’s grip and do something for himself for once. He’s proud of Dean for making that choice.

“Wow.” Cas pulls Dean in for a hug. It’s a little awkward since they are both laying down, but he can’t help feeling the joy of being so physically close to Dean. Dean, who is warm under the covers and still smells like a hint of his cologne that hasn’t worn off throughout the day.

When Cas pulls back and catches sight of Dean’s beautiful face, even more beautiful as years pass, he thinks for a minute, maybe this isn’t such a great idea. He thought he had learned to control his unrequited feelings for Dean but now the thought of living with him and seeing him everyday again is stoking a fire in his chest.

He can’t get around the fact that he does still love Dean. After Dean had rejected his advances, Cas had given up on that idea of reciprocated feelings completely and locked it away. It was easier to do by virtue of the physical distance between them. Cas slept around quite a bit freshman year and, as stupid as it sounds, that helped him move on by seeing that were plenty of men who were attracted to him. It was liberating to be able to be ‘out’ and date openly. Everyone here in Berkeley accepted that part of him; no one batted an eye when he walked down the street hand-in-hand with another man.

He dated a couple guys more seriously, but they eventually parted ways, never serious enough to get to the next level. Cas had learned a few years ago that it was impossible to have deep romantic feelings for another man while he was still in love with Dean, but he’d still been able to find physical pleasure through a series of no-strings-attached hookups with guys he was attracted to. He was clear about his expectations, and he never had a problem with keeping encounters casual.

Maybe it won’t be the greatest idea to move in with a man that he still holds a torch for but will never be able to be with, but he isn’t going to think about that right now.

Cas almost misses when Dean starts talking again. “Cas, I’m really nervous about the interview,” he admits, quietly. “You know how I get when I’m nervous. I turn into a bumbling idiot. What if I make a fool of myself?” Dean is picking a thread on the comforter and not meeting Cas’s eyes.

“Dean,” Cas smiles kindly at him.  He knows Dean has a lot of insecurity at times, though he tries to hide it behind a mask of bravado, he often shows his vulnerable side to Cas.

“I’ve read all your writing. It’s really good. And you obviously have a passion for cars. This is a perfect opportunity for you! I know you’re doubting yourself right now, but I’m not doubting you at all. I know you can do this. And if, for some reason, you don’t get the job, that’s not the end of the world. We can start looking for other jobs that would be good for you when we get there.  You just graduated college, you have plenty of time to find a job that you’ll love.” Cas grabs Dean’s hand again and squeezes, knowing that ever since he was young, Dean often craves physical reassurance.

Dean smiles and squeezes back.  “Thanks, Cas,” he whispers into the empty space between them.

“I’m so happy, Dean,” Cas confesses.

“Me too,” Dean replies. “Best buds back together again.”

Cas’s heart sinks a bit at the blatant reminder that he should feel ridiculous for the bubble of hope that is filling up his chest, against his will, at the thought of living with the man he could never stop loving. He just hopes he can put those feelings aside again. Living together means he’ll have to see Dean with other men and women. He’ll have a front row seat to see all the people that Dean chooses over him.

“Hey, are you OK? You seemed really happy and now you look down.” Dean’s whisper pulled Cas out of his thoughts.

Cas forces a smile and shakes his head. “Sorry, I am happy. It's just been a long day. I’m pretty beat.”

Dean, looking relieved, nods. “Yeah, it has. We should go to sleep.”

As they settle back in, Cas lying flat on his back and Dean turning away onto his side, Cas wonders if he made a mistake telling Dean they could move in together.

After staying up much too late, staring at those glowing green stars above, he decides that he’ll do whatever it takes to not let anything come between them. Even his own feelings. Dean is first and foremost Cas’s longest and best friend and he wants him to be happy and loved. If it isn’t going to be with Cas, then so be it. He will just have to live with that.

It takes Cas a long time to fall asleep.


	7. The Catalyst

Cas closes the door behind him and almost immediately trips over Dean’s shoes in the entryway.  “Dean!” Cas calls out, frustrated. “I told you to stop leaving your shoes here. I trip over them every time!”

Cas kicks the sneakers aside and continues into the apartment. It’s half of a duplex with Spanish-style architecture. The “For Rent” sign was perched on the small lawn and caught Cas’s eye while driving by one day. He had fallen in love with it instantly. Cas and Dean gladly left the mediocre apartment they shared for the first few years that they had lived in L.A for the beautiful two-bedroom two bath. The rent was ridiculously high, but it was affordable for them splitting it in half, and Cas thought it was worth every penny.

Dean peeks his head out of the kitchen sheepishly. “Sorry! Sorry, I forgot.”

Cas rolls his eyes and sets down the mail on the dining table.

“Just don’t leave them there anymore” Cas sighs.

Dean is back in the kitchen banging around. “What are you making?” Cas calls, taking off his sport coat and hanging it over the back of the dining room chair, the fragrant smell of garlic tickling his nose.

“Lasagna!” Dean calls and Cas unconsciously licks his lips. Dean makes an amazing lasagna.

Coming to stand in the doorway, Cas watches with interest as Dean layers noodles and ricotta cheese in a large casserole dish. Cas is hopeless in the kitchen so he’s always amazed when Dean can take simple ingredients and turn it into something mouthwatering.

“What time will Sam be here?” Cas asks, conspicuously admiring the view of Dean’s broad shoulders and trim hips ensconced the frilly, flowery apron that Sam bought him as a joke for his birthday a few months ago.

Cas had originally had plans with Balthazar tonight. They were going to spend the night at Balthazar’s apartment, watching Netflix, order Thai food and just relax on the couch. He would have been able to work out the stress of the day with some good sex. Now that Sam had planned to arrive tonight, Cas bailed on those plans to be able to stay home and have dinner with Sam and his new girlfriend.

“He and Jess should be here around seven.” Dean looks up with a grin. He’s especially excited to see Sam again after so long. It’s spring break for Stanford now and Sam has asked to come visit them and bring his girlfriend. Cas had offered to make himself scarce for the week and even suggested Sam and Jess stay in his bedroom. He was pleasantly surprised when both Dean and Sam vehemently rejected his offer and insisted that he was part of the family and that his presence was required. Cas was never not surprised when they made that clear to him. Cas’s family left a lot to be desired and he truly thought of Dean and Sam as the family he never had. When it came to the brothers reciprocating that feeling, he found it harder to believe. They had each other and were extremely close, as far as siblings go. He was pretty sure both Dean and Sam didn’t see him as important as they did the other but he was always surprised by their loyalty.

Cas navigates around Dean to get to the fridge and pull out a beer from the impressive newly-purchased stash. Dean must have done some major grocery shopping today.  Besides the entire top shelf of beer, the other shelves are packed full of fresh food. Cas pops the cap and leans back against the counter opposite Dean. 

“I don’t know why Sam wouldn’t let us pick them up at LAX,” Cas starts, taking a long pull from his bottle. “They’re going to have to pay for an Uber now.”

Dean shakes his head. “I don't know. I think Sam didn’t want us to meet Jessica for the first time in the car. He’s really nervous about us meeting, not that I can figure why.” Dean turns around. He goes to open the fridge, but not before plucking Cas’s beer right out of his hands and taking a healthy swig for himself before handing it back.

“But I told him I’d cover the fare,” Dean supplies, getting back to his lasagna.

Cas knows that Dean helps support Sam and it’s something he really admires about the man. Dean has spent his whole life taking care of Sam. After their mother died, John had gone a little off the rails and had never recovered. He was always getting fired from jobs for not showing up for a few days and their family friend, Bobby Singer, would help them get by. He’d give John money when he was between jobs to make sure the kids were fed and clothed. Bobby loved Sam and Dean like they were his own and he was a better father to them then John had ever been.  

When Sam went away to college, he didn’t get any support from his dad. Thankfully, Sam had received a full ride from an academic scholarship, but he still needed money for food and other necessities. He holds down a part-time job at the campus library but he can’t work too many hours when he has to keep up with all of his challenging pre-law classes. Dean picks up the slack and sends Sam extra money every month. Dean makes a pretty nice salary at his job since he was promoted to an Editorial Assistant position but after rent and his own bills and necessities, Cas was pretty sure most of the money left over went to Sam.

That’s one of the things that Cas loves most about Dean. He is so selfless, especially when it comes to his brother, that it doesn’t even phase him. He will gladly give up anything for Sam. Cas has been so close with Dean his whole life he also feels like Sam is a younger brother to him and he couldn’t be happier that Sam seems to have found someone to settle down with in Jess. The way he talks about her, Cas is pretty sure they are headed for marriage. They’re young, both only 21 now, but Sam is a very serious and thoughtful young man and he’s sure he won't jump into anything so momentous without a lot of thought.

“Don’t tease him too much in front of his girlfriend, Dean,” Cas warns, pulling vegetables out of the crisper drawer to start the salad.

Dean whines, “oh, come on, Cas.  It’s my brotherly duty to embarrass him in front of his girl.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “He obviously really likes her. Just don’t embarrass him too much.”

Dean sighs. He carefully slides the lasagna into the oven and turns to Cas with his hand on his hip. “Fine. I’ll go easy, okay?” Dean tries to look disgruntled but the effect is somewhat lost with the flowery apron.

\-------------

It’s a couple hours later when the doorbell rings. Dean is in the kitchen, his safe space, fretting over the garlic bread. It got a little browner than he wanted. Cas thinks he's being a little crazy- the bread looks and smells delicious to him-but Dean is nervous, so he just lets him be.

“Cas!” Dean yells, yanking the apron off and hanging it up quickly on the hook by the fridge. He smooths down his dress shirt and heads for the door.

Cas is already in the living room and is about to open the front door, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

“Cas,” Dean whispers.

Pausing, Cas turns to look at Dean, who takes a deep breath and then nods the okay. The door opens and there, on their front step, stands Sam. He somehow looks even taller than he did the last time Cas saw him, over Christmas. His hair is longer and he knows Dean will happily make fun of him for it later, and he also has a beautiful woman on his arm. She’s tall and slim with long, curly, blonde hair. She’s wearing a yellow sundress and a beautiful smile, showing off her straight, white teeth.

Sam is the first to speak. “Hey,” he says, guiding his girlfriend through the door with a gentle hand on her lower back.

“Dean, Cas, this is my girlfriend, Jess.” Sam looks lovestruck as he gazes at her and it stirs something in Cas’s chest.

“Hi, Jess. It’s nice to meet you.” Cas shakes her hand politely.

She responds in kind before Dean steps forward.

“Hey, you’ve put up with my little brother for this long, you deserve a hug.” Dean goes in and she meets him halfway, wrapping one arm behind his back.

Cas can’t help but be a little jealous. Since he and Dean live together now, there aren’t many occasions for a hug. It’s been awhile since he’s felt Dean’s strong arms around him.

When Dean finishes greeting Jess, he ruffles Sam’s hair and pulls his little brother in for a tight hug.

“Good to see you, Sammy.” He thumps Sam on the back twice. “Do they not have barbers in Palo Alto?”

Sam rolls his eyes and gives Jess a look like “can you believe I have to put up with this?”

Dean ushers them both inside and closes the door behind them.

“The lasagna just needs to cool for a little longer and then we can eat,” he explains, guiding them to the living room.

“It smells amazing,” Jess compliments, taking a dramatic breath through her nose. She’s energetic and beautiful. Cas can see right away what drew Sam to her.

“Dean outdid himself,” Cas says, following the couple into the living room. “The garlic bread tastes as good as it smells. I snuck a bite,” he confides, giving a guilty look to Dean.

“Cas!” Dean exclaims. “I told you to wait.” His voice is disappointed but his eyes hold a twinkle that lets Cas know he isn’t too angry.

Jess settles down on the loveseat next to Sam while Dean and Cas take a seat on the couch.

Rubbing her hands over her thighs to smooth down her dress, she looks between Dean and Cas, smirking.

“You two are so cute. How long have you been together?” She asks.

Cas’s stomach clenches.

“Woah. No,” Dean says quickly, gesturing with splayed hands. “We’re not dating. We’re just friends. Roommates,” he explains.

Cas’s heart sinks. Dean was so quick to make sure Jess knew they weren’t together. Like he couldn’t bear the idea of someone thinking that. It hurts more than he wants to admit to himself.

“Oh my god.” Jess covers her mouth with one hand, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry.”  She looks so uncomfortable.

“The way Sam talked about you both, I just assumed. I feel so stupid.”

“Nah,” Dean says. “No worries. It’s an easy mistake to make with Cas fawning all over my cooking like that.” He smiles and raises a hand, waving Jess’s apology away.

Cas can’t help but feel stupid. Does he really fawn over Dean? He has feelings that never went away, but he always thought he did well to hide them. For a second, he wonders if Dean knows those feelings are still present, bubbling under the surface, and if Dean feels uncomfortable about it. It’s obvious that he was disturbed by the idea of someone thinking they were couple, he was so quick to correct her.

Cas still lets his mind wander from time to time about the letter he left Dean, and how glad he is that Dean never found occasion to throw it back in his face. Even during their worst fights, Dean never brought up Cas’s most vulnerable moment. He often wonders if Dean ever thinks about it anymore. Cas tries to avoid thinking about it usually, though he can’t help remembering it when Dean’s lack of reciprocation is made so apparent.

He really wishes he had kept those plans with Balthazar tonight instead. He could feel desired right now instead of rejected. His throat tightens but he clears it with a cough. Now isn’t the time. Cas does his best to dispel those thoughts and forces a smile on his face.

“I’m going to grab a drink,” he says, standing up. “What can I get you two?”

\------------------

It’s Thursday night and Cas had to work late for a parent/teacher meeting. It’s Dean’s turn to park in their one assigned spot so Cas has to drive three blocks over the find a parking spot for what Dean refers to as his “pimp mobile”. He’s exhausted. It’s been a long, stressful day, and Cas is planning on taking a shower and face planting onto his bed, not to be roused until his alarm goes off the next morning. At least tomorrow was Friday.

His plans change, however, as soon as he closes the door of the apartment behind him and takes in the scene in front of him. Dean is sitting at the dining room table, hunched over, with an open bottle of whiskey and a half-empty tumbler at his elbow. He looks defeated and maybe some mixture between angry and devastated.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Cas rushes over to his side and squeezes his shoulder, impatient to hear what has his friend in such obvious turmoil.

“It’s Dad,” Dean finally gets out, his voice hoarse, as if he had been screaming. Or crying. “He’s dead. Bobby called me a couple hours ago and let me know.”

“Oh my god.” Cas kneels beside Dean’s chair and grips his forearm resting on the table. “Dean, what happened?”

Dean pours himself a fresh glass and takes a deep drink before he speaks. “He was driving drunk.” Now Dean sounds angry. “He wrapped his car around a tree. Thank god he didn't hurt anyone else.”

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” Cas whispers, squeezing Dean’s arm. Dean had a tumultuous relationship with his father his whole life. Cas knows that Dean doesn’t feel that John ever accepted him or approved of him. He’s resented John for not being able to take care of his family, for leaving him to basically raise Sam when he was just a kid himself. Dean had been dreaming about getting away from John all during high school but had stayed in his shadow long afterwards for Sam. John rarely spoke to Dean or Sam anymore. Cas knew that in recent years, since the boys had moved out of the house, John had started drinking more and more. All that aside though, it couldn’t be easy for Dean to lose his only living parent and having a difficult relationship probably made it more confusing.

Dean has his head cradled in his hands. Cas brings his hand up to rub Dean’s back, soothingly. “Dean, I’m so sorry this happened. I know you didn’t have a good relationship with John, but it's still always hard to lose a parent.” Dean doesn't really respond and Cas just sits for a minute, trying to figure out what to do.

Dean seems a little out of it so Cas figures the best thing to do is to try to help with whatever the family needs. He gets up, gets himself a glass from the kitchen cabinet, and pours a healthy measure of the whiskey into it before he sits down next to Dean at the table.  

“What do we need to do, Dean? Does Sam know?” Cas asks, trying to get a hold on the situation.

Dean nods slowly. “Yeah, I called him right after I talked to Bobby.”

“How did he take it? Is he okay?” Cas questions, worried about the younger brother. Sam had maybe an even more difficult relationship with his father than Dean did. When Sam went off to college, John had thrown a fit and told him to never come back. Sam and John had a huge blow out and the boys rarely talked to John after that.

“I think so. He seems okay. And Jess was there with him.” Dean responds without much energy, as if he’s exhausted just from talking about this.

“Okay, that’s good,” Cas nods, taking another swig from the glass. “Maybe we should call him one more time to check in before it gets too late.” Cas suggests. Dean nods robotically and Cas moves on.

“What about arrangements? When are you leaving for Kansas? I’ll call into work and come with you.” Cas insists. He doesn’t have very much time off available but he could make it work. Whatever he had to do to be there for his best friend. His family, really.

Dean shakes his head. “Don’t bother, Cas. We’re not going to do anything special. He wanted to be cremated and we’re not really going to have a funeral. He didn’t have any friends even, ‘cept for Bobby.” Dean breathes out a sad laugh and takes another too-big gulp from his glass.

“I don’t care, Dean,” Cas insists. “I want to be there with you to support you.”  

Dean gives a hollow smile.

“Thanks, Cas, but, really, don’t worry about it. I know you used most of your time off on that trip with Balthazar. Sammy’s coming with me, though, so I won’t be alone. We’re both flying out tomorrow morning and meeting in Lawrence.”

Cas can tell that Dean isn’t himself by the mere fact that he talks about flying so casually. He doesn’t seem nervous about ‘hurtling through the air in flying death trap,’ as he usually would, but maybe that was the whiskey talking.

Cas rubs Dean’s arm reassuringly. “Are you sure, Dean? It’s really no problem. I can get the time off.” Being there for Dean was more important than his job.

“No, Cas. Don’t worry about it. Me and Sam got it covered.” Dean hangs his head.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Cas says.

They spend the rest of the evening quietly, drinking whiskey, and Cas holds tight to Dean when he finally breaks down and cries.


	8. The Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for alcohol as a coping mechanism.

Dean’s mission for today is to empty all the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen while Sam works in Dad’s bedroom.

They landed in Lawrence a few days ago and made all the necessary arrangements with Bobby’s help. It was stressful and draining but having Bobby there had made it so much easier. He was a rock, always there for Dean and Sam whenever they needed him.

Their next goal was to clean out the house completely to get it ready to sell. There was a rented dumpster sitting out in front of the house, which had fallen into disrepair in the last few years. John had obviously not been interested in trying to keep up appearances anymore.

Dean is sure they’re going to end up trashing the entire contents of the house. The boys had gone through their old bedrooms yesterday and taken the few items they wanted to keep. Dean had found an old shoebox of tapes he had made when he was in high school and reminisced while he went through them all. Cas would love to see them. Maybe they could spend an evening listening to them again when he got back home.

Dean surveys the kitchen and sighs. He’s not looking forward to this. Better get started.

Two hours later, Dean has taken a few boxes out to the dumpster full of old scratched pots and pans and filled two boxes with mismatched dishes and silverware to donate to Goodwill. He’s now going through the drawers filled with what appear to be a random assortment of junk. The trash bag is almost full and Dean is considering if he should take it out and start a new one. He only has one drawer left though and decides to stuff in all he can before taking it out.

The last drawer contains a few spare tools - a screwdriver and a small wrench, which he adds to the donation box - and a Ziploc baggie filled with rusty screws and bolts, which he shoves in the trash bag. All that’s left in the bottom of the drawer is an assortment of old mail that Dean briefly considers just dumping in the trash, but he decides to sort through it in the off chance there’s something important in there.

He makes it through about 12 old electricity bills, some credit card offers, and an HOA notice from five years ago before he comes across an old crinkly sheet of lined notebook paper, folded in thirds.  At first, Dean thinks it might be an old shopping list or maybe one of his dad’s rare to-do lists that he penned in a fit of optimism. Dean had found a couple of those on the workbench in the garage.

When Dean unfolds it, he recognizes the slanted but neat handwriting instantly.

It’s Cas’s. And it’s addressed to Dean.

Dean wracks his mind, trying to think of when Cas had ever written him an entire letter. They exchanged their fair share of notes in class on the margins of their notebooks, but he couldn’t remember ever receiving a formally written letter addressing him as ‘Dear Dean’. Of course Cas, ever the perfectionist, had written the date on the top left of the page - August 16, 2008. Dean counted back in his head. That had been the summer after they graduated high school.

Confused, Dean leans a hip against the chipped kitchen counter and starts reading.

_You’re probably wondering why I’m writing you a letter while I’m in the house next door. It’s because I need to tell you something that I can’t bring myself to tell you to your face. I know you would assure me that I can tell you anything, and normally I can, but just not this. I’m going to come right out and say it: Dean, I love you._

Dean pauses after reading the first paragraph. He’s not sure exactly what this means, so he reads on.

By the time he gets to the end of the letter, he’s in disbelief, not sure how to process what he just read.

_If you don’t feel the same way, I completely understand. I very much do not want this to make things awkward between us. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, you’re my family, and I don’t ever want that to change. Please, Dean, if you don’t feel the same way, just tear up this letter, throw it away, and pretend it never existed. I want you to continue to act the same as you always do, and please do me the courtesy of not bringing up this letter for as long as we live. I couldn’t stand the embarrassment, and I’d rather just ignore the fact that I was ever naive enough to think you could return my feelings._

_No matter what happens, I want you to know that you’re an amazing, strong, thoughtful, kind, and generous person. I love you very much and I always will, even if we can’t be together._

Cas had apparently confessed his love to Dean. Eight years ago.

Dean becomes aware that he’s clutching the aged notebook paper too tightly when he sees that his hands are shaking. There’s a tangled knot in his stomach he can’t get rid of.

His eyes skim over the page again, looking for answers. The handwriting is definitely Cas’s, there’s no denying that. But then why has he never seen this until now? Looking over the letter again isn’t helping - there aren’t any answers to be found there. 

“Sam!” Dean yells, still stunned, hoping his brother might have some insight about what could have happened all those years ago.

“What?” Sam yells back before Dean hears his loud footsteps pounding down the stairs.

Stopping at the threshold to the kitchen, he repeats, “what?”

He has his hair tied back in a dorky ponytail, but Dean doesn’t even comment on that. He just hands the letter over wordlessly. Sam steps into the kitchen and takes it with a searching look to Dean, before reading it.

It takes a couple minutes before Sam looks up with a hangdog look. “Where did you find this?”

Dean gestures to the open drawer, now empty save for a few scraps of paper and an old packet of melted birthday candles.  “It was in there, mixed up with all this old shit.” Dean sits down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs.

“What the hell?” He runs a hand through his already unkempt hair. “What was that doing in there? And how come I never saw it? Did you know anything about this?” Dean asks, accusingly.

“Dude. No,” Sam insists, hurt that Dean would even think that. “I mean, I can’t say I never suspected that Cas had feelings for you,” he admits with a shrug, as if that’s not heavy news to Dean. “But I didn’t know about this letter, and Cas never talked to me about it.”

“You suspected…” Dean trails off, not sure what to think of what his brother just said. “Really?”

Sam rolls his eyes and takes a seat at the table opposite his brother, folding the letter back up carefully and setting it down on the table top. “You’d have to be blind not to, Dean. It was pretty obvious.”

Dean just shakes his head, staring at the old landline phone mounted on the wall that his father refused to get rid of.

“And,” Sam starts, a little hesitantly.

Dean turns his head to meet his brother’s eye, expectantly.

“Well, I always suspected you had feelings for him too,” he says carefully.

Dean looks away.

“I did,” he mumbles. “I mean, I do.” Dean hangs his head and groans, smearing a hand over his face.

“Still?” Sam asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Dean admits, with a sad laugh. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

Sam shakes his head. “It’s not pathetic, Dean. You and Cas would be great together. I always thought that. I mean, you’re so close already, it wouldn’t take much to get into relationship territory.”

Dean’s picks up the letter again and holds it carefully, like it’s a precious artifact.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, dejected. “It’s too late. He doesn’t feel this way anymore.”

“And how do you know that?” Sam asks.

“He’s with that guy Balthazar now.” Dean laughs humorlessly and sets the letter down again. “It’s too late, Sam. How come I didn’t get this letter when he wrote it? How did it get in that drawer?”

Sam looks around the kitchen and gestures at all of their father’s accumulated junk. “Dad? Do you think he found it first and hid it?”

Dean shakes his head. He supposes the why doesn’t really matter either. “Maybe.” He wants to be mad, but he’s just tired. “A boy saying stuff like that to me. Probably would have pissed him off,” Dean adds, a dark edge to his voice.

Dean finally came out to his father when he was in college and John didn’t take it well. He told Dean that bisexuality wasn’t real and that he was just confused. They got into a huge fight about it and Dean had stormed out of the house and spent the night driving Baby around town. He called Cas that night, too, from an empty field, interrupting his intense midterm studying. He parked and laid down on top of the hood of the car, venting to Cas with the stars twinkling overhead. He always went to Cas when he was upset because Cas had a way of always making him feel better. He made him feel better that night though he can’t remember exactly what was said. Dean wonders if Cas was still in love with him then.

John didn’t acknowledge Dean’s sexuality at all after that. Thankfully, Dean had never been serious enough about anyone he dated to have to explain to them why they wouldn’t want to meet his father.

Dean takes up the letter again and opens it slowly. His eyes follow the words on the page, taking them in a second time.

“He must have thought I didn’t feel the same way, when he didn’t get a reply,” Dean says, his voice thick with sadness. “Fuck.”

Dean leans heavily on his elbows. “This was right before he left for California. He had to have been upset by it, and I didn’t even know. How could I not have known something that huge about one of the most important people in my life? I mean, he was a little weird after he moved, but he always said it was just the big change.”

Dean chuckles darkly under his breath and thinks about crumpling up the note. He can’t, though. Having those words in his hands, knowing they were meant for him from the man he had been in love with for probably his whole life, even if they weren’t true anymore, was too precious.

Dean folds the note with care before gently putting it in the buttoned pocket on his green and navy plaid flannel, stowing it along with his anguish to pick apart at a later, private time.  

“There’s no use crying about it now,” Dean says, getting up, anxious to move, to stave off the sadness. “Let’s get back to work.”

He can’t take the pitiful look in Sam’s puppy dog eyes, so he stoops to pick up one of the donation boxes and carries it to the truck outside.

Dean pretends not to see the look on Sam’s face when he says, “yeah, okay,” and turns away to go back upstairs.

\--------------------

It’s almost midnight and Dean is sitting on the bare floor of the living room, drinking bourbon out of a solo cup. Not the classiest, but, hey, they already packed up all the dishes and sent them away to Goodwill and, honestly, Dean couldn’t be bothered.

He was already dealing with mixed feelings about their father dying due to their complicated relationship, and now there was something else causing the ache behind his sternum. Cas had loved him. Well, he knew Cas loved him still, in a way, but he was _in love_ with him back then. “Was” being the operative word. How could Dean not have gotten that letter? What would have happened if he had? Dean can’t stop going over it.

He imagines it now. Finding the note somewhere, maybe under Baby’s windshield wiper one morning. He’d read it. See the words on the page he had been longing to hear from the boy he had loved for years. He could feel the ghost of the joy he would have felt in that moment. The hollow echo in his chest when he read them today would have been full to the brim. He takes another burning sip of the whiskey and lets himself feel it now. The joy. He would have run through their yard to the Novaks’ house and straight up to Cas’s bedroom where he was doing something dorky like reading his college textbooks before class even started. Dean would push the physics book out of Cas’s lap and straddle him, right where he was sitting on his bed. They’d kiss. It would have been perfect.

Dean doesn’t know how it would have worked out from there. He would always have wanted Cas to go to his dream school and he still wouldn’t have wanted to leave Sam to fend for himself. But he knows they would have made it work somehow. He could have visited Cas more often, Cas would come home more often. They could have Skyped every day. He’d have preferred anything over what actually happened, which was that he just let Cas go because he wanted to end the torture of being so close to Cas all the time but never in the way he wanted to. They would have lived together, shared an apartment. Shared a bed. They could have been together for years by now. Maybe they’d be married.

Dean wipes his face before he realizes that it’s wet with tears. He sniffs and use his flannel to dry his eyes. Sam is supposedly sleeping in his old bedroom upstairs but Dean definitely doesn’t want his little brother to see him like this. Dean is playing the part that he always plays for Sam - big brother with everything figured out. The tough guy that doesn’t let feelings get in the way. Protector and surrogate parent-figure. Dean had been stoic the entire rest of the day and tried hard to ignore the knowing, pitying looks in Sam’s eyes. He was relieved when his brother had finally gone to sleep.

Dean takes a too-large gulp from his glass and pulls out his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans. He has two missed calls from Cas and four unopened text messages. Dean opens the message thread first.

_How are you doing today?_

_Did you get the kitchen done yet?_

_I’m leaving work now but I’ll call you when I get home._

_Dean? Are you okay? Just text me and let me know you’re alright. I’ll try Sam next._

The timestamp for the last message was a little less than an hour ago. Sam had already been asleep then.

Dean stares at the phone until it goes dark and he can see his own reflection in the screen. He looks haggard, the week’s events having taken their toll even before the discovery of the letter. He sighs. It’s time to pull it together. He has to get everything taken care of here. He has to be strong for Sam. He has to put everything in that note, and everything that could have been, away. Someplace deep within himself. He has to lock it up and be the same best friend to Cas now as he was when he left California. He missed the boat. It hurt like hell but it’s too late now. Cas is happy with someone else, and Dean has to accept that and move on.

Clearing his throat, he takes one last drink before he thumbs the phone back on. He scrolls to Cas’s number and hits “call”. With the time difference, Dean is sure Cas will still be awake. He’s such a worry-wart too, he probably would have stayed up, concerned about Dean.

It rings twice before Cas picks up, sounding a little out of breath. “Dean??”

Dean tries to talk but nothing comes out. He clears his throat again. “Hey, Cas.” His voice sounds scratchy and unused to his own ears.

“Dean, I was worried about you. You didn’t answer my texts or calls all day.” Cas does sound worried. Dean feels a stab of guilt for purposely ignoring his messages earlier, he just couldn’t face talking to him at the time. Now that he has a couple glasses of whiskey in him, he feels more prepared.  

“Everything’s fine, Cas. I was just really focused on getting stuff done here. You know how I get.” He looks down, picking a loose thread on his jeans. Dean has been known to spend all day stress-cleaning their apartment and blocking out everything else.

Dean can practically hear Cas nodding. “I know. I thought that was probably it. I just didn’t like not being able to get ahold of you when you’re going through this.” Cas sounds so sincere, Dean almost starts crying again. Shit. Maybe he drank more than he thought.

Some of this deep hurt in his stomach _is_ from his Dad dying. Dean lets the stoic mask slip a little. He always does with Cas. His whole life he’s never felt like he had to be strong in front of his best friend. Cas knows him better than he does himself and he always accepts every part of Dean, even the parts Dean hates most about himself.

“I know, Cas. It’s just-” Dean stops talking when he hears a male voice in the background. It has a smarmy British accent, so he knows it’s Balthazar.  

“When are you coming to bed, Darling?”

Dean’s stomach churns. He’s suddenly glad he only had whiskey for dinner. It hits him harder than he thought it would. He thought he would be able to deal with this, but goddamn, right now, it hurts. He almost can't swallow past the lump in his throat while he listens to Cas answering, muffled and far away.

“Sorry,” Cas’s voice was clear on the line again.

Dean feels a strange mixture of anger, hurt, and self-pity. He can feel himself cracking, the facade slipping. He doesn’t think he can do this right now.

“It’s okay, Cas. Listen, I’m exhausted. Can we just talk tomorrow instead?” Dean practically pleads, his voice cracking on the last word.

“Of course, Dean. I understand,” Cas says softly, concern evident in his voice. “I’ll call you in the morning. You’re not going to Bobby’s until later right?”  

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re going over around lunchtime to go get my dad’s ashes together,” Dean mumbles, praying to just get off the line.

“Okay. Then I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight, Dean. Sleep well,” Cas bids sincerely.

“Night, Cas.” Dean hangs up quickly.

He certainly feels like shit now. Cas bringing up his father hit hard for some reason. He hadn’t really thought about the reason he and Sam were here all day. After spending the majority of the day ruminating on his feelings for Cas and how he’d missed out on his chance, the culmination of all those feelings was overwhelming. Dean and his dad never had much of a relationship at all. He guesses that's what hurts the most. What could have been. Just like with him and Cas. Maybe he and his father could have had a better relationship. Maybe Dean could have done something to make his dad happier. 

In a fit of anger, either at himself, Cas, Dad, or the universe - he’s not sure which - Dean throws his cell phone across the room. It hits the wall with a thunk and lands, unharmed, on the carpet in the hallway.

He can’t wrap his head around how upset he feels right now. Dean has been in love with Cas for at least ten years now. Cas has been with Balthazar for over a year. Nothing has changed in the past week. Everything’s the same as it was when he left California. Why does everything feel so different now?

Dean pours another three fingers of the amber liquid into his plastic cup.

\--------------------

“Dean!”

Someone is shaking Dean and he groans in annoyance. Cracking open one eye, he groans a second time. The sun is over bright and it sends a searing pain through his temple. Sam is hovering over the couch, glaring at him with bitch face no. 23.

“Dean, it’s after ten.” Sam shakes his shoulder again, unnecessarily. He’s definitely awake now. The pounding headache makes sure of that.  

“Jesus, alright already,” Dean moans, shoving Sam away from him. He feels like shit. He stayed up too late and finished the bottle of whiskey before stumbling to the couch and passing out. There might have been a few more tears shed too, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Even to himself.

Sam is still looming over the ratty old couch and Dean rolls to face the cushions, away from Sam, away from the sunlight spilling in through the curtain-less windows.

“Dude, leave me alone,” he mumbles.

Sam sighs petulantly. “Dean. I got a call from Cas this morning.”

That clears his head a _little_.

“What did he say?” Dean asks, his voice muffled by the pillow he has his face pressed into.

“He was worried about you.  He said he talked to you last night and you seemed upset. And that he tried to call you this morning and you didn’t answer.  I had to tell him you drank practically an entire fifth of whiskey and that’s why you weren’t answering.” Sam sounds so self-righteous and Dean makes a frustrated noise, finally rolling over to squint at his brother.

“Goddamnit, Sam. Now he’s going to be even more worried.” Dean doesn’t want Cas’s sympathy right now. He doesn’t think he can take it. Cas doesn’t know that Dean is feeling more upset right now by realizing he missed his chance with Cas all those years ago than he is about his own father’s death.

Sam throws his hands up, clearly exasperated. “I’m not going to lie to him, Dean.” He sounds irritated too. “I mean I didn’t tell him _why_ you were acting so weird. He just thinks it’s about Dad and I didn’t correct him.”

Dean knows Sam would never betray his confidence but it calms him to hear it anyway. His stomach feels sick and his head is still aching. His heart hurts.  

“I can’t even talk to him now without being an idiot.” Dean sighs.

“Maybe you should just talk to Cas about this, Dean,” Sam suggests slowly like Dean is five.

Dean would shake his head if he wasn’t absolutely certain that would make him want to puke. He doesn’t know why his little brother doesn’t get how hard this is for him.

“Sam, I can’t. Cas is with Balthazar and he’s happy and if he finds out, it will make things awkward. I just need to get my head back in the game,” Dean insists, turning onto his back and staring at the stained ceiling. He can do that. He just needs to pull his shit together. Focus. He has to go back to California and go back to the way things were. He doesn’t know why it hurts so much more now but he just can’t let it.

Sam doesn’t respond. Dean knows what that means. It means Sam doesn’t approve of what Dean is saying. Whatever.  

“Here.” A hard object hits Dean smack in the middle of his chest. In a delayed reaction, he grabs for it and his hands close around a familiar shape, cold glass and smooth plastic.

“It was laying on the floor. I almost stepped on it this morning,” Sam says before he leaves the room, hopefully, Dean prays, to make coffee.

It's Dean’s phone. He holds it up to his face and presses the home button. There are two unopened texts from Cas.

_Good morning, Dean.  Are you awake?_

_Call me when you wake up._

Dean opens the thread and taps out a text.

_Shit. Slept in too long and running late. I’ll call you this afternoon after the cemetery._

He reads it over two times through one squinting eye, the other eye closed tight, checking to make sure all the words have come out how he means them to. He clicks the phone to sleep after hitting send and throws it to the side before rolling off the couch and barely catching himself before he falls onto the floor.

He definitely needs to take a shower and get some food in him before they meet Bobby at the cemetery.

\----------------

Bobby, Sam, and Dean have gone back to Bobby’s house after the cemetery.  They watched the undertaker lower John’s ashes in the same plot alongside Mary’s and that was basically it. Not much was said between them. There wasn’t much to say. All three of them have had their own problems with John Winchester.

Now they’re drinking beers together in Bobby’s kitchen. Sam steps outside to take a call from Jess and Bobby and Dean are left alone together, leaning against the grubby counter shoulder-to-shoulder.

“What’s up with you, Boy?” Bobby asks gruffly as soon as the front door closes behind Sam.

Dean studies his beer bottle intently, peeling off some of the label. “You know, Bobby…” Dean starts.

Bobby grunts. “Don’t tell me this is just about yer daddy.”

Dean looks up and meets Bobby’s eyes. Bobby knows Dean better than anyone, besides Cas. He has a way of seeing right through Dean and knowing exactly what’s wrong. It was part of what made him such a great father-figure to Dean. Bobby always took the time to figure out was up with Dean, even when he wasn’t making it easy for him. Dean could tell Bobby things he could never admit to his father.

Dean debates for a few moments, wondering if he should brush it off.  

Finally, after an internal debate, he looks away and reaches into his pocket to pull out the letter. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t packed it away by now but when he changed his clothes this morning, he had put it in his new shirt pocket without even thinking.

“I found this in Dad’s house yesterday,” Dean explains, silently handing the wrinkled piece of aged notebook paper over to Bobby, who takes it with a questioning glance. Dean avoids looking directly at Bobby while he unfolds the paper and reads the contents.

Dean doesn’t look up again until Bobby whistles a low note. “You ain’t seen this before?” He asks.

Dean shakes his head in frustration. “No. I found it crumpled up in the junk drawer in the kitchen. I don’t get how it was there in the house and I never saw it.”

Bobby folds it back up and sets it down on the table at Dean’s elbow. “Maybe yer daddy found it and didn’t want you t’see it. That certainly sounds like something John Winchester woulda done.”

Dean nods. Sam had said the same thing and Dean is starting to think that was exactly what happened. He wants so badly to call Cas and ask him all about it. When and how had he tried to give it to him? What had he thought when Dean didn’t respond? Well, Dean is almost certain he knows what Cas had thought after that. He hangs his head. Dean needs to sit so he pulls a chair out and sits at the kitchen table, settling his half-empty beer in front of himself.

“Is it that much of a surprise?” Bobby comments, deliberately casual. “That boy’s been looking at you like you hung the moon since you were little.  When you finally admitted you liked boys too, I figured it was only a matter of time before you two woulda got together.”

Bobby takes a healthy swig of beer and Dean just feels lost. Sam had said basically the same thing. Had he really been that oblivious? It had been obvious to everyone else, apparently.

Dean groans and lays his head down on his forearm. “I had no clue he had feelings for me, Bobby. If only I had gotten the letter. Then I would have known and I don’t know…maybe my whole life would have been different.” Dean feels the urge to punch something again. He’s had that impulse a few times over the past 24 hours.

“Well, it ain’t ever too late, Son,” Bobby insists with a rough squeeze to Dean’s shoulder.

Dean pulls his head up. “Yes, it is, Bobby. He has a boyfriend now.” He hears a hint of a whine in his own voice.

Bobby sits heavily on the chair across from Dean. “Oh.”

Dean snorts without humor. “Yeah, ‘Oh.’”

“Well, they ain’t married yet. There’s still time.”

Dean rolls his eyes.  “Bobby, he’s with someone else now. He’s obviously gotten over any feelings he had for me.” He picks up the letter and gestures with it, “he wrote this eight years ago.”

Bobby is quiet for a moment before he finally speaks, “So what?”

“Son, you should tell ‘im that you haven’t seen it till now. At least so he knows you didn’t reject him all those years ago. That boy deserves to know that much, at least.”

Dean wants to squirm under Bobby’s gaze but he forces himself still. “I don’t know, Bobby. What if he figures out I still have feelings for him? Maybe it’s better to leave it as it is. We’ve gone on this long.”

“Well, then so be it, it’s not the end of the world. He tried to tell you the truth back then with this letter. I think you owe it to him to do the same now.”

Dean is silent, contemplating. He really doesn’t want to tell Cas. That could get messy so fast.

“Look, Son. I can’t make you do anythin’ you don’t wanna. You’re stubburn like yer daddy. But, for what it’s worth, I think it ain’t fair you know all this and he doesn’t. Now, that’s all I’m gunna say.”

Bobby drains the last of his beer and throws it in the recycling on the way to the old fridge.

“‘’Nother beer?” He asks.

Dean nods.  He could use about ten more.

 


	9. The Reveal

> Billy licked his lips, thought a while, inquired at last: "Why me?"
> 
> "That is a very Earthling question to ask, Mr. Pilgrim. Why you? Why us for that matter? Why anything? Because this moment simply is. Have you ever seen bugs trapped in amber?"
> 
> "Yes." Billy, in fact, had a paperweight in his office which was a blob of polished amber with three ladybugs embedded in it.
> 
> "Well, here we are, Mr. Pilgrim, trapped in the amber of this moment. There is no why."
> 
> \- **_Slaughterhouse Five_**

Dean has only been back in Los Angeles for less than two weeks and he’s already crawling the walls. It never really used to bother him to see Cas and Balthazar together. Yeah, he didn’t really like the guy that much, but he put up with him for Cas’s sake. Dean had buried his feelings for Cas deep away, not wanting to risk their friendship by ever mentioning it. It was usually bearable. Now, watching them together makes his chest ache.

Every time Balthazar has come over, Dean retreats to his room. He doesn’t want to see them cuddling on the couch, or worse, kissing. He’s already re-read all his favorite books and watched Season 6 of Game of Thrones on his laptop. He doesn’t know how much more time holed up in his room he can take. The thought has entered his mind that he might need to move out. It’s hard to think about not living with Cas anymore - living all alone - but maybe it’s headed that way anyway. Maybe Cas wants to move in with Balthazar. It’s probably time to talk to Cas about that. 

The thought of distancing himself from Cas weighs him down as he drives home from work one day. He can’t imagine living the rest of his life feeling the way he has for the last few weeks.  

As soon as Dean opens the door to their apartment, the scent of baking apples and cinnamon assaults his nose. He throws his keys into the bowl on the side table and walks through to the kitchen, following his nose. He’s surprised to see Cas, wearing Dean’s pink, flowery apron, and peering into the oven. Cas isn’t the best cook so they have a long-standing agreement that Dean does all of the cooking and Cas does all of the dishes.

“Cas?” Dean asks questioningly from the doorway. “What are you doing?”

Cas straightens up and spins around to face Dean. He has flour in his hair and something yellowish and unidentifiable splattered on the front of the apron. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up to his elbow, exposing the floral line art tattoo etched in black on his left forearm and the bee on the inside of his right wrist. His cheeks are flushed and his blue eyes are bright.

He looks amazing.

“I wanted to be done before you got home,” Cas starts, a little sadly. He takes a few steps closer to Dean.

“Dean, I know you’ve been sad since you got back from Kansas. About your father.” That stops Dean in his tracks since he hasn’t really thought too much about his dad since he got back. He spares a moment to feel guilty about that. Most of his brain power is still consumed with thoughts of Cas and what could have been and will, now, never be.  

Cas steps closer and splays a hand across Dean’s bicep. “It’s only natural. But I wanted to cheer you up a little. So I made you an apple pie.” Cas smiles a little and squeezes his arm.

Dean feels stricken. First, that Cas thinks he’s been sad about his Dad, which he guesses he should be. No matter how tumultuous their relationship was, John was still his father. But then, Cas, who has no interest or skill in cooking or baking, had probably spent all afternoon making him his favorite dessert, just to cheer him up. No one has ever done all that just to make him feel better. All of a sudden, his throat constricts and his eyes burn. He hasn’t let himself cry since that night he found the letter but it seems to be catching up to him right now.

Dean doesn’t know what his face looks like but it makes Cas whisper, “Dean, it’s okay,” and pulls him in for a firm hug. It takes a moment for Dean to hug him back, but then he presses his face into Cas’s shoulder. He smells like cinnamon. To Dean’s shame, a few tears escape. Cas rubs his back and Dean has to hold back a sob. It hurts even more to know Cas thinks he’s comforting Dean over his dead father, who had stolen so much from both of them by keeping Cas’s letter a secret all these years.  

He wants to tell Cas how sorry he is, that he made Cas think that he didn’t love him. He just wants him to know it wasn’t his choice. He can’t, though. Not after Cas begged him not to mention it again in the letter. Besides that, it would give too much away. Dean wouldn’t be able to get through that conversation without breaking.

He pulls away from Cas, reluctantly, and avoids his eyes.

“Shit, sorry.” He sniffles, swiping at his eyes.

Cas squeezes his shoulder and gently says, “there’s nothing to be sorry about.” Dean wants to snort. Little does Cas know that Dean is pining over him while he’s in a relationship with someone else. He just nods.

“The pie will be done in a few minutes and I thought we’d just order pizza for dinner,” Cas offers with a warm smile.

Dean nods and smiles back, a little brokenly. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m gunna go take a shower and change. Okay?” He’s desperate to get away for a few minutes and put himself back together.

Cas is as considerate as always. “Of course, Dean. I’ll order our usual.”

Dean disappears into his room and closes the door, letting his head fall back against it with a thump. He is in way over his head.

\------------------

Dean is lounging lazily on the couch. The empty pizza box is open on the coffee table and he has a fresh beer in his hand. They’re watching Star Wars again - up to Empire Strikes Back now. Cas knows they’re Dean’s comfort movies and had put A New Hope in the DVD player without even asking.

Just then, Cas enters the room from the kitchen holding two plates of apple pie with scoops of vanilla ice cream melting on top. He hands one to Dean, who balances it carefully on his stomach.

“I hope it’s okay. I followed a recipe but you know how hopeless I am in the kitchen,” Cas says, a little nervously, like Dean won't inhale it no matter what it tastes like.

Cas watches anxiously while Dean scoops up a bite with his fork, balancing a small dollop of ice cream on top of the golden crust, and shoves it in his mouth. The taste of cinnamon and sugar burst across his tongue first, followed by the slightly tart apple. The crust crumbles perfectly with the silky smooth vanilla ice cream. Dean moans.

“Holy shit. This is amazing, Cas!” Dean exclaims sincerely. He shovels another bite into his mouth. That edge of the crust is a little overdone but it still tastes amazing.

“Really?” Cas is smiling brightly at the praise but he still seems a little skeptical. He carefully cuts a small piece of his own pie and takes a bite.

“Hmm, it actually is not bad,” Cas concedes, licking some spare filing off his pink lips.

Dean smirks and cuts another too-big bite.

“It’s seriously awesome, Cas. I didn’t know you could make pie like this! You’ve been wasting your talents. I expect a pie a week now, at least,” he mumbles around a mouthful of pie.

Cas rolls his eyes, feigning exasperation, and turns the movie back on. Dean gets a second piece of pie. What? He deserves some comfort food, dammit.

By the time Return of the Jedi starts, Dean is actually feeling pretty good. He’s got a little bit of a buzz from the beer, he’s full of pizza and apple pie, and he feels comfortable laying on the couch with his legs dangling over the arm. He feels warm and a little sleepy. Cas is sitting a few inches from his head and whenever there’s a good part Cas looks down at him and smiles. Dean feels content. Maybe he was overreacting about moving out. He’s been really emotional the last couple weeks and it makes sense that he’s blowing everything out of proportion. He just needs to relax and give it some time, he decides.

That’s about when Cas’s phone starts ringing. Dean’s heart clenches since he’s pretty sure he knows who it is. Cas confirms when he apologizes and tells him it’s Balthazar, excusing himself to take the call.

All of the warm and fuzzy feelings Dean just had have evaporated. They had been having a good time and now Balthazar has interrupted and Cas had gone running to him. It will always be like that.

Dean sighs and heaves himself off the couch. The fun is over. He turns the TV off and takes the pizza box and the empty plates to the kitchen. He’s just finishing cleaning up when Cas comes in from the living room. He takes in the spotless kitchen.

“Are you ready to finish the rest of the movie?”

Dean shakes his head, not looking up from towel drying the last plate. “Nah, I’m tired. I’m just going to go to bed.”

Cas is silent but Dean can still feel his presence in the room. After Dean puts the plate away, he doesn’t have any other reason to stay facing the wall so he turns around and meets Cas’s eyes.

Cas looks confused and maybe a little sad. His head is tilted a little to the side in the way that Dean definitely does not think is incredibly cute.

“What’s wrong, Dean? You seemed like your old self tonight. Did something happen?” Cas is all concern again and Dean can’t take it. He internally growls in frustration. Why can’t Cas just leave it alone?

He thought he could keep quiet about it but he just can’t. He has to say something. It’s not fair to Cas or to Balthazar too, he guesses, but he just can’t keep it in anymore. It’s selfish but it’s not fair that he hadn’t gotten to talk to Cas about his feelings back then when he wrote the letter; he has to get them out now instead. Cas will be nice about it and let him down easy and maybe he won't flaunt his relationship with Balthazar around Dean so much. Maybe he’ll want to move out but Dean has already been thinking about that so it won’t be too much of a blow. Probably. They can deal with it and then move past it, right?

“Dean?” Cas is up in Dean’s space now. He touches Dean’s shoulder to get his attention. Dean hasn’t even noticed him coming closer, and now here he is just a few inches from him. He smells faintly of his usual cologne and also faintly, still, of apple pie. He looks soft in his flannel pajama pants and worn gray tee shirt.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Cas” Dean relents. He feels a little out of control. Should he be doing this?

“Sorry about what, Dean? Tell me what’s wrong.” Cas says gently. He doesn’t step back.

Dean’s eyes flick down to Cas’s slightly chapped lips then back up to his concerned blue eyes; it’s very hard to resist leaning in for a kiss. The only thing stopping him is knowing that Cas is with someone else and it will just make him “the other man.” Fuck.

“Cas, I’m sorry.  I wanted to be quiet about it and just move on but I can’t.” Dean pleads with Cas and lifts his arms to grab onto Cas’s shoulders. He needs help feeling grounded. And this might be the last time Cas lets Dean touch him.

Cas looks very confused. “Dean, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he admits.

Dean sighs. “I know, Cas, I’m trying to tell you.” He feels frustrated and just wants to get this out finally.

Cas nods but doesn’t otherwise respond, waiting patiently for Dean to speak.

Now that he has the floor though, Dean isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say. He will just have to start talking and hopefully he’ll get there eventually.

“It’s the letter, Cas,” Dean starts, but he isn't sure where to go from there. At least he got that much out.

Cas looks even more confused than he did a moment ago. “What letter?”

“THE letter,” Dean emphasizes, like that will explain everything. “The letter you wrote to me eight years ago. You said you loved me.” Dean practically chokes the last sentence out.

Cas blanches and takes a step back. “Dean,” he whispers, “why are you bringing this up now? I thought we moved past it?” He looks distressed and a little betrayed.

“No! We didn’t ‘move past it’!” Dean exclaims.

Cas tries to take another step back but Dean’s grip on his shoulders prevents him from doing so.

“I couldn’t have moved past it, because I never got it! I didn’t get to read it until just now. Two weeks ago.” Dean knows he’s practically yelling but he’s frustrated and exhausted, trying to get his point across.

Thankfully, some of the pain leaves Cas’s face and is replaced with bemusement.

“What? What do you mean? I don’t understand, Dean.”

“I never got the letter, Cas. I assume you gave it to me or tried to but I never got it. When we were cleaning out Dad’s house, I found it in the junk drawer in the kitchen.” Dean feels impatient for Cas to understand what he’s saying. How he found the letter is the least important part of the whole thing.

“You never… - but I put it in the mailbox and I watched you take the mail in.” Cas is looking far away, as if trying to remember the details of the past.

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know, Cas. Maybe my dad got to it before I did. I just know I never read it until a couple weeks ago.”

Cas searches Dean’s face, as if to see if he’s telling the truth.

“You really never got the letter?” He asks finally, quietly.

“No!” Dean shakes his head. “And it fucking hurt to read it and know that it was too late.” He can’t look at Cas right now so he keeps his eyes turned to the floor.

“Too late for what?” He hears Cas whisper.

“For there to maybe...be something between us.” Dean whispers back, looking back up. It feels intense, staring into Cas’s eyes, mere inches away, but he has to remember that Cas is with somebody else. Whatever he feels right now, it's not right.  

He supposes there is no shame in admitting this part, “’cause I was head over heels for you back then.”

Expression softening, Cas is silent for a moment, staring deeply into Dean’s eyes.

“You were?”

Cas seems happy to hear that. Dean supposes it's nice to hear, no matter how it turned out. At least for Cas, he can hopefully look back on the incident without pain now. It was all just a misunderstanding. Having eight years to process the rejection probably makes it makes it easier to swallow.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean whispers. “If I got the letter, I would have told you I loved you too.” Dean wants to say more, about all the other things they could have done together if just given the chance, but he holds himself back. Cas wouldn’t want to hear about that stuff anymore.

“You’re how I figured out I was bi, you know,” Dean confesses, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Cas smiles a beautiful, gummy smile for a moment before it melts slowly.

“I should have told you to your face. I was such a coward.”

“No, Cas.” Dean grips his shoulders tightly. “It was really brave of you to write that letter. I’m the one who was the coward. I never even tried to tell you.”

Cas shakes his head ruefully. “All these years, I thought you read the letter and weren’t interested in me like that. Part of me expected it but it still hurt a lot at the time.”

Dean can tell by the look on his face that Cas is remembering the pain he felt back then vividly.

Dean pulls Cas into a hug, hating the fact that anything he did had caused his best friend pain. “I’m sorry, Cas. I wish I knew. I wish I got the letter. Our whole lives could have turned out differently.” Dean whispers into his unkempt hair, heart heavy.

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s not your fault.” Dean barely hears the words Cas speaks, muffled in his chest.

Dean feels like crying again but he won’t this time. He can’t give away how he still feels. He accomplished what he wanted, which was to tell Cas he never received the letter and apologize for hurting him, now he had to cut this short before he said something stupid.

“But, hey, if that happened then you’d never have met Balthazar,” Dean says. He thinks that might make Cas feel better about the missed chance.

Cas pulls away and looks up at Dean blankly. “What does this have to do with Balthazar?”

Dean is speechless for a moment. Maybe he’s said the wrong thing anyway.

“Well, I mean, nothing… It just seems like you guys are really happy together and if we had been together, then maybe you wouldn’t have been able to be together,” Dean pauses. “Well, I guess we could have broken up by then maybe, for some reason…” Okay, this is getting out of hand. Time to reel it back in, Winchester.

Cas is staring at Dean as if he has three heads. Dean’s not sure what he said wrong but it was definitely something. He’s about to start rambling nervously, the words bubbling up his throat, when Cas says something that stops the words dead in their tracks.

“Balthazar and I aren’t together.”

Dean’s pretty sure his eyes are bugging out of his head. “What?” He squeaks, undignified. “What do you mean you aren't together?” _What the hell?_

Cas squints at Dean. “We’re friends,” he explains slowly, as if Dean is absolutely insane for thinking otherwise.

Dean sputters. “Friends?? But you kiss! And...other stuff!” They kissed and cuddled in front of Dean all the time and there had been a couple times he had heard them doing much more than cuddling in Cas’s bedroom, but he was definitely not going to bring that up.

Cas smiles a little. “Dean, we do kiss. And ‘other stuff,’” Cas used finger quotes. “But we’re still just friends. We aren't in an exclusive relationship.”

Dean’s head is spinning.

“You’re just fuck buddies?? But I call him your boyfriend all the time! You’ve never corrected me!” Dean’s glad he sounds as outraged as he feels.

“I thought you were being sarcastic. You know I don’t get all your jokes.”

Huh. Now that Dean thinks about it, he had usually said it mockingly.  But how could he have been expected not to?

“Holy shit,” was all Dean could get out. “You’re really not with Balthazar?”

Cas chuckles and shakes his head. “No. We’re both physically attracted to each other and we’re good friends. It’s nice to have someone to cuddle and spend time with sometimes when you don’t have anyone else to do those things with. But I could never be in a relationship with Balthazar. We just wouldn’t work like that. He can’t be tamed. He just called to tell me he’s having a ménage-a-twelve as we speak. Besides, I’ve never felt any romantic attraction to him at all.”

“Damn. Twelve?” Dean says, disbelievingly. “Okay, never mind, not important.” He shakes his head to clear the thought away.

Cas is just smiling at Dean, endeared.

“Dean. I’ll tell you now to your face this time.” Cas takes a step closer. So close, that when Dean looks down, Cas’s face is mere inches from his own. Cas slides one hand down to grip his bicep but Dean can’t take his eyes off of Cas’s.

“I could never be with Balthazar or anyone else because I’m still in love with you.” The bottom of Dean’s stomach drops out. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. How did he go from thinking, no, _knowing_ , that Cas was in love with someone else to hearing Cas says those words he’s been longing to hear for the past ten years?

Dean realizes he’s been silent when he sees Cas’s smile slip a little, looking unsure, like he’s just waiting to be let down. Cas still goes on, “you said you loved me back then. I don’t know how you feel now but I’m not going to write another letter I’ll have to wait eight more years for you to read. I just wanted to say it to your face this time.”

Dean searches Cas’s face. Holy shit. He’s serious. _Holy shit_. Cas is actually in love with him! He’s not dating a smarmy British douchebag! Dean is elated. On cloud nine. His heart feels lighter than it has in weeks - in his whole life, maybe.

When he looks at Cas’s face again, which falls further each second that Dean is silently celebrating in his head, he realizes he hasn’t actually said anything out loud yet.

Dean's smile stretches across his face until his cheeks hurt and he brings up his hands to frame Cas’s face.

“Castiel Novak. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember and I’m not about to stop now.”

The smile that lights up Cas’s face is beautiful. It makes his nose crinkle in that way that Dean thinks is adorable. It may be the most beautiful sight Dean has ever seen. Besides that time last year when they just got out of the pool and Cas had casually dropped his towel to change into his clothes and Dean got a good look at his bare ass for the first time in several years.  Now _that_ was a beautiful sight.

“Dean?” Cas looks up expectantly.

Oh, yeah. He was in the middle of something.

Dean cradles Cas’s face in his hands and tilts his head up ever so slightly for just the right angle. Dean closes his eyes and leans in, meeting Cas’s lips with his own.

The kiss is better than he ever imagined. Cas’s lips are soft, warm, and dry. It’s so good, but a little too chaste for how Dean is feeling right now. Maybe it’s spurred by his thoughts of Cas’s amazing ass or pining after him for so long, but he just wants to devour Cas now. Dean opens his mouth a little and licks against the seam of Cas’s lips, who opens his mouth eagerly to him. The slide of tongue and lips is almost obscene. It’s so hot that Dean wants to cry. He moans instead.

Dean is lit up with the desire to touch Cas everywhere all at once. To taste him everywhere. They have eight years of lost time to make up for and Dean is burning with it. He wants to savor the moment, he wants to rush ahead. He can’t make up his mind so they just continue making out, right there in the kitchen, lost in each other, with wandering hands.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth and it makes him shiver. He has one hand on the small of Dean’s back, underneath his tee shirt.

Dean already has a handful of Cas’s perfect ass.

“Cas. Let me take you to your room,” he whispers, practically begs.

“Yes,” Cas answers immediately, without taking any time to think on it. He runs his fingers through the hair at the back of Dean’s neck and pulls away from the kiss to look his best friend in the eye. “I’ve wanted you so long, Dean. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Dean groans. This is everything he’s ever wanted, presented to him. He can’t believe this is actually happening right now. The man he’s been pining after for so long is actually in his arms. Cas actually _wants_ him.

Dean grabs Cas’s hand tightly and drags him down the hall to Cas’s room. The bed is made up neatly, of course. Dean would normally roll his eyes but right now he can’t wait to ruffle that perfectly made bed. His erection is already tenting his sweatpants and when he looks down he sees that Cas has a similar predicament. Through the thin material of Cas’s track pants he gets a pretty good idea of the size and girth of Cas’s partially hard cock. His mouth waters.

When they get to the bed, Dean pushes Cas down onto the navy duvet and climbs on after, settling on hands and knees above Cas’s body. He immediately leans down to capture Cas’s pink lips again with his own.

Dean’s dick is already aching and desperate for friction so he drops his hips, rubbing himself against Cas’s hard length. They both gasp. It feels amazing, even through layers of fabric, but Dean becomes aware that he’s so turned on, this might be over too soon if he doesn’t pace himself.

Dean gets his arms and legs back under him and ends up just staring down at Cas. His hair is in disarray, his lips red from kissing, a flush high on his cheekbones. He can’t help but think how beautiful Cas looks and how lucky he is to be here right now. For a second, he feels a stab of anxiety. Is this too soon? Should they be stopping to talk first?

“Dean,” Cas whispers, running his hand along Dean’s sides, bringing him back.

“Yeah, Babe, sorry,” Dean says, smiling down at his soon-to-be lover. He needs to get out of his head and get back into the moment. He wants it, Cas wants it, and nothing feels wrong about this moment. They can talk after he finally gets his lips on those nipple rings that have taunted him for years.

Dean sits back on his heels, balancing on Cas’s muscled thighs, and slides his hands up under Cas’s tee shirt. His fingers dance over Cas’s tight abs, keeping his touch light, slow, purposeful. He’s teasing himself as much as he is Cas, who squirms a little underneath him. Dean wants to savor the journey to those perfect nipples. Ever so slowly, the shirt rides up until it bunches under Cas’s armpits and those two silver circles are finally revealed.

Now that the prize has been unveiled, Dean wastes no time in pulling the tee up over Cas’s head and tossing it aside where it lands somewhere on the floor.

He’s seen Cas shirtless many times over the years but never like this. He’s never been allowed to touch or to look his fill. This time, the view of Cas’s well-defined chest and arms sends an electric shock straight down to his lower abdomen. His tattoos stand out starkly against Cas’s tan skin and the metal rings are like a beacon. Dean loves when his lovers play with his nipples as he’s always been very sensitive there, and, thanks to Cas, he’s always wondered what it feels like to have them pierced.

“Look so good, Babe,” Dean whispers, dragging his hands up Cas’s stomach to his chest. His fingers finally reach them - hard, dusky pink, and standing to attention, with small silver rings right through the middle. Dean pulls gently on the ring that pierces the right nub.

“That hurt?” he asks quietly, searching Cas’s face.

Cas shakes his head with a smile. “You don’t have to be so gentle.”

Dean smiles back, devilishly. He’s still careful, afraid to hurt his partner, but he tugs a little harder and twists a little. Cas arches up underneath Dean and his head falls back against the pillow with an exhale of pleasure. It goes straight to Dean’s dick.

“Fuck. Cas,” Dean whispers. As much as he wants to draw this out and enjoy it, it’s already so intense.

Dean lowers his head and takes the right ring into his mouth. He laves the it with the flat of his tongue. The texture of the soft skin against the hard unforgivable metal is an exhilarating contrast. Dean sucks on the ring, letting his tongue curl through the middle. Cas is squirming underneath him, his breathing slightly elevated. Cas seems to be just as sensitive as Dean is in that area and it’s all as Dean could have wished for.

When Dean bites Cas there gently, feeling the hard metal underneath the softer flesh, Cas moans and bucks his hips under him. Dean is so tempted to lower his hips and let them rub against each other again, but he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to stop if he lets that happen. Instead he stays where he is, on his knees with his hands roaming Cas’s chest and his mouth attached firmly to Cas.

He finds the left nipple with his right hand and plays with the ring a little while he continues the assault on the right. Eventually, Dean switches and gets his mouth on the other side, just as exquisite as the first. Dean’s cock is hard, aching, and neglected. With his lips occupied, he lets his right hand drift down between him and Cas and grabs himself through his sweatpants. He moans with his teeth still on Cas’s nipple. Dean gets a hand inside his underwear and squeezes a little to take the edge off. When he starts to get too into it, he shows an amazing amount of restraint by dragging his hand out of his sweatpants and getting it back on Cas’s chest. He roams downwards slowly until he feels the little hairs leading down further into Cas’s pants. When Dean gets to the waistband, Cas lifts his hips, wordlessly begging Dean to touch.

Dean is definitely interested, but he finds it in himself to hold out a little longer. He wants to tease just a little more. He already knows Cas is sincerely turned on, he can tell by how hard Cas grips his biceps and the louder the noises coming out of his mouth.

Dean lets his fingers drift underneath the waistband and down further until the hair starts to thicken, but then he stops, and after a few seconds he pulls his hand out and flattens it against Cas’s lower abdomen. He can hear Cas groan in disappointment and frustration.

Dean gets the message that Cas has had enough by the pulling on his hair to lift his head up from where it has taken residence on Cas’s chest. Dean gets one good look at Cas’s nipples, red and shiny, before he’s guided up to meet Cas’s eyes. Cas’s face is flushed with desire and his hair is fucked from thrashing it on the pillow. There’s fire in his crystal blue eyes. He looks so gorgeous, it takes Dean’s breath away.

“Dean, I need you,” Cas insists desperately.

Dean certainly can’t say no to that. Nor does he want to. He’s had enough teasing too. He’s so ready.

“Yeah,” is all he gets out.

Cas yanks Dean’s old AC/DC tee shirt up over his head and tosses it aside carelessly. His hands roam over Dean’s chest.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas asks, rolling Dean’s nipples between his fingers.

Dean can barely concentrate with the sensation overload he’s currently feeling but he knows exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for years.

“Wanna ride you.”

Cas lets out a heavy breath. “Yes.” He reaches over to his nightstand, twisting under Dean, to get to the top drawer. He comes back with a small bottle of lube and a condom.

“Dean. You’re so beautiful,” Cas says, running his hands up Dean’s stomach and chest then down his sides until he reaches the waistband of Dean’s sweatpants.

“Can’t wait to be inside you.” Dean groans in response.

“Get these off,” Cas insists, pulling the waistband down.

Dean gets up off the bed, standing on two unsteady legs, while he strips his pants and boxer briefs off in one motion. Normally, Dean gets a little self-conscious getting naked in front of a new partner for the first time, but right now, the only thing he feels is desire. Cas is taking the opportunity to divest himself of his pants as well. He lifts his hips off the bed and shimmies his pants off quickly, throwing them off the side of the bed.

Dean’s mouth goes dry when he gets his first look at Cas’s cock. It’s so much better than he could have imagined. It’s just long enough and thicker than he could have hoped. Right now, it’s hard, curving towards his stomach a little, and flushed dark red. It disappears briefly underneath Cas’s hand while he strokes himself quickly. Dean can’t help but grab his own cock at the sight.

As soon as they’re both sufficiently bare, Dean takes his hands off himself and climbs hastily back onto the bed, settling over Cas’s thighs again.

Uncovered, Dean doesn’t know where to look. Cas’s thighs draw his gaze, first. They’re so thickly muscled from Cas’s daily runs. Dean thinks next time he wants to fuck Cas, so he can grab onto them in the act. Cas’s cock takes his attention quickly though.

Dean reaches down and wraps his fingers around Cas’s girth. It’s hot, rock hard, and velvet smooth. He gives Cas a few strokes, getting a feel for it, before he pushes his hips down and grabs their cocks together in one hand. They both rock their hips a little and the feeling of their erections together is exquisite. Dean and Cas moan in unison.

As good as it feels, Dean wants Cas inside him, like, ten years ago, so he slackens his grip and moves up, hovering over Cas’s stomach instead.

“Come on, Baby. Want you inside me,” Dean whispers, leaning down to capture Cas’s lips. The kiss is intense and a little rough. They’re both desperate for more.

Cas grabs the lube and wordlessly opens it with a click, spreading some on his fingers.

He grabs onto Dean’s thigh gently, pulling him forward, before his lubed fingers slide down Dean’s crack.

When Cas reaches Dean’s hole, he circles his rim before slowly pressing one finger inside. Dean is already panting. He wants to be ready right now but he knows he needs prep. Cas only has one finger inside him so far, gently circling, and Dean is already going crazy.

It takes him awhile to relax fully and adjust to the intrusion, but when he starts moving his hips, Cas slips a second finger in. It feels so good. The stretch, the slight burn, it's exactly what Dean wants. He rocks back against Cas’s finger a little, and eventually Cas scissors his two fingers inside Dean. Dean becomes aware that he’s making little noises of pleasure, but he doesn’t feel self-conscious. He wants more. He needs more.

“More, Cas,” he whispers roughly.

“Not yet,” Cas whispers back.

Dean groans in frustration and fucks himself back on Cas’s fingers harder. He knows Cas is being careful with him but he’s desperate to feel full. He’s more than ready to be fucked.

Cas stills Dean’s hips with a firm hand and captures his lips in a kiss. He runs a soothing hand along Dean’s flank. “Breathe, Dean,” he insists, gently. “We’ll get there.”

Frustrated, Dean tries to relax. He knows Cas is right but he can’t help the _right now_ in his brain. Once Dean has relaxed enough, Cas begins moving his fingers again. Soon enough he’s slipped a third in and after what feels like hours of Cas moving and stroking inside him, he deems Dean ready.

“Fuck. Finally,” Dean groans while Cas gently pulls his fingers out. Dean immediately feels empty, but he knows Cas will fill him soon.

While Cas puts the condom on and slicks himself up with lube, Dean strokes his own neglected cock.

“Are you ready, Dean?” Cas asks, looking up at Dean through his eyelashes.

“Yes, fuck. So ready, Cas. Come on.”

Dean moves to get into position of Cas’s cock and they both guide Cas’s cock to Dean’s hole carefully. Dean sinks down slowly. His body stretches to accommodate it and it burns a little but in a good way. So good.

They both moan when the head of Cas’s cock breaches Dean. Dean sinks down further.

Cas’s eyes slip shut and he grips Dean’s thighs tightly, trying to fight to urge to fuck up into Dean.

Once Dean is fully seated, he stops for a few moments, panting, while he adjusts to the much larger intrusion. It’s been awhile since he’s bottomed so it takes a little longer than usual to get comfortable.

Cas is patient as ever. He’s breathing like he’s just come back from one of his runs, his hands roaming restlessly over Dean’s thighs and hips. He grips Dean’s cock and strokes softly a few times, waiting for Dean to be ready.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

Dean starts to move a little. “Yeah, so good. Wanted this so bad. Can’t believe you’re inside me.”

Dean gets into a rhythm and starts to ride Cas a little harder, a little faster. Cas arches underneath him and starts to buck up as Dean moves down. It takes a few thrusts before he matches Dean’s rhythm and then it’s so right. Cas reaches up and grabs Dean shoulder and pulls him down to his mouth.

They kiss until their lips are just barely touching, breathing into each other’s mouths. They’re too caught up in the sensations to concentrate on kissing. Cas grabs both of Dean’s hands and they twine their fingers together. It’s so intimate. Sex has never felt this way to Dean before. Cas’s cock feels so good inside him and he finally gets in the right position for Cas’s cock to graze his prostate. He almost doesn’t have the wherewithal to tell Cas how good it feels.

“Cas.” Dean pants. “So good. Fuck. You feel so good, Babe.”

They both pick up the pace, fucking harder into each other. Then Cas hits his prostate properly and Dean sees stars.

“You feel amazing, Dean. You look so good riding my cock,” Cas moans, letting go of one of Dean’s hands to reach down between them and grips where Dean is already leaking.

Dean is overwhelmed by the sensation of Cas fucking him and the rough grip of his hand on his cock.

“Love you, Babe.” Dean breathes out. He pulls up onto his knees for better leverage and fucks down harder, never letting go of Cas’s hand.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean manages to look Cas in the eye and gets to see the love he feels right now reflected there. He keeps his eyes on Cas until he gets closer and closer to his orgasm.

“Close,” he warns, letting his head fall back.

Cas seems to double his effort, both thrusting faster and stroking Dean’s cock harder and faster. It’s too much for Dean and he comes all over Cas’s stomach, moaning Cas’s name.

When he’s spent, he falls forward onto Cas’s chest, his thighs aching from holding himself up for so long.

While he comes down, Cas kisses him gently on the temple and then rolls him over onto his back. Dean makes a disappointed noise when Cas slips out of him but it’s only seconds before Cas repositions them, with barely any help from an exhausted Dean, and pushes back inside him.

Dean wraps his legs around Cas’s waist and opens his eyes to find Cas staring down at him intensely, his forearms bracketing Dean’s head. Cas thrusts into Dean and once he finds a rhythm, he fucks more frantically. Dean summons the energy to rock his hips in time and clench his hole around Cas, trying to make it as good as he can for him even though he feels tingly and shaky from his orgasm.

“Close, Babe?”

Cas just nods silently, tucking his face against Dean’s neck.

It only takes a minute for Cas to tense up and moan as he comes inside Dean.

After a moment of rest, his forehead on Dean’s chest, Cas pulls out gently and throws the condom in the waste bin beside the bed before collapsing next to Dean.

They’re both just silent, breathing hard side by side. Dean speaks first.

“Holy shit. That was awesome.”

Cas laughs a little, still trying to catch his breath. He rolls over onto his side to face Dean. “It was awesome,” he responds quietly. His voice always sound like he gargled rocks, but right now it's especially rough and makes Dean shiver a little.

Dean looks over and grabs Cas’s hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, Dean,” Cas responds, gently.

 They have a lot to say to each other but right now, they’re both exhausted.

“I wanna be the little spoon,” Dean mumbles, turning his back to Cas, who laughs and crowds up behind him to sling an arm over his waist.

“Of course, Dean,” he whispers.

Dean wants to stay up and talk, but soon his eyes start to feel heavy. He fights it for as long as he can before he falls asleep like that, sated and happy in Cas’s strong arms.


	10. The End

When Dean wakes up, it’s still dark.

It takes him a second for his brain to catch up with where he is. Despite the fact that he knows Cas’s bedroom well, he’s never woken up here before. Though the dorky glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling give it away pretty quickly.

Dean has rolled away from Cas in his sleep but now rolls back onto his side to get a better look.

Cas is still laying on his side facing Dean, his eyes closed and his face lax in sleep. His dark hair is smooshed by the pillow and his arm is flung out towards Dean, like he tried to reach for him in his sleep.

Dean casts his eyes downwards. He lingers on the silver nipple rings, tempted to touch again, but he resists for now. His gaze traces the tattoos he loves, such a stark contrast against Cas’s skin: he colorful galaxy swirling across his shoulder and down his upper arm, the geometric wolf, the sharp antlers on the stag, that weird enochian writing across his ribs. They’re all beautiful and they’re all a part of Cas.

The comforter is pulled up to his waist, but Dean knows he’s naked underneath. It’s sometime in the middle of the night; he can see the moon through the window, high in the pitch black sky, but Dean doesn’t feel the desire to go back to sleep. He could stay here all night, just watching Cas sleep.

Dean is happy to be awake and aware that what happened earlier tonight wasn’t a dream. He’s certainly had dreams like that before. This time it was real though. Cas really told him he loved him. They really made love. Not that he’d ever admit to anyone that he thought of what they did together last night as “making love”. If Sam ever found out, he’d never hear the end of it.

His hand comes up to brush a lock of hair out of Cas’s face and he ends up caressing his stubble-rough cheek. Dean doesn’t want to disturb Cas’s sleep, but he just wants to touch him, he wants to see those baby blues directed at him with adoration again.

Dean runs a hand down Cas’s arm slowly. When he reaches Cas's hand, he takes it in his own, squeezing gently. He gets to watch while Cas stirs. When Cas blinks open his eyes, Dean feels the same excitement he felt last night when Cas finally said those three words he’d been desperate to hear.

“Hey, Babe,” Dean whispers across the space separating them.

Cas squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. He looks adorably confused and Dean can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. His heart feels like its going to burst.

“What time is it?” Cas asks, taking in the dark room.

“Uh,” Dean turns to look over his shoulder at the alarm clock perched on Cas’s nightstand. “Almost three thirty.”

Cas tries to give Dean a “look” but it’s mostly just sleepy. “Why are we awake?”

Dean shifts closer to Cas’s sleep warm body and settles an arm over his waist, letting his hand caress Cas’s well-defined back.

“I missed you,” he admits.

Cas rolls his eyes but he can’t keep the wide, gummy smile off his face.

“You are such a sap, Dean Winchester.” Cas leans in and captures Dean’s lips in a soft kiss. It’s unhurried and full of love.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Dean says when they finally part. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m a softy.”

“I won’t tell a soul.”

Dean thanks him for his loyalty before their lips meet again. They shift together, getting comfortable, before settling, their heads on the same pillow and their legs tangled together.

“I love you so much,” Cas whispers, taking Dean’s hand in his own and lacing their fingers together.

“Love you too,” Dean responds.

Cas casts his eyes downward. “I can’t stop thinking about all the time we lost. We could have been together for years now. We could be in an established relationship, not just spending our first night together.”

“I know, we could be, like, living together by now,” Dean says with levity.

Cas sighs, “Dean, I’m serious.”

“I know, Babe,” he reassures his lover. “Look, I spent a lot of time thinking about that these past two weeks and it drove me crazy.” Dean squeezes Cas’s hand before he goes on. “It’s not worth thinking about, trust me. Who knows what would have happened if we got together back then. It would have been really hard to be in a long-distance relationship when we were that young. What if you decided to go to KU just so we could be together? Your whole life would have been different. Maybe you’d have turned out different.”

Dean caresses Cas’s check and lets his hand travel up behind Cas’s ear to comb through his hair. “And I love the person you’ve become. I’m glad we get to be together now. I feel ready to be with you, like I won’t fuck it up.”

Cas smiles softly. “I understand. You think it was meant to be this way.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what I mean,” Dean drags his thumb along Cas’s lower lip before going in for another kiss.

They fall asleep around dawn, both watching out the window as the stars fade and the sky lightens slowly from inky blue to deep purple to pink, nestled together under the covers.

It took a long time and a lot of pain to finally get here but it was worth every tear. Today was the first day of their new relationship, a new dawn, and they couldn’t wait to spend the rest of their lives together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Come say hi to me on Tumblr @ilovelucey!](http://ilovelucey.tumblr.com/)


End file.
